


His Companion Was The Grave

by SinclairMaxwell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinclairMaxwell/pseuds/SinclairMaxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Apocalypse is nigh and the Master of Death is coming to play. Whatever will the Winchesters do with the beloved of Death? How will Lucifer combat this new foe from opposite field? SupernaturalHarryPotter, Death/Harry slash. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. O' Death

A/N: Okay, I know that I'm not done with Details In The Fabric or my revision of By Deaths To Die but there are absolutely NO Death/Harry Supernatural/HP crossover stories on this site! What the heck, writers?! I wanted to read one badly and when I found that there were none, I decided that I was duty bound as a fanfiction author to create one and so here it is. This is a prologue so ir's bound to be short. The next chapter will have the meat and potatoes for you. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Supernatural. Sod off.

Prologia... O' Death

Death has a curious way of reshuffling a person's perception of the world, of time, of yourself. But mostly of death itself. When I died, there was no white light or unending darkness. Not even the train station from before. Of course, my death couldn't be standard issue. How many people had the chance to die twice in one day, after all? One moment, I was on the battlefield, my spell colliding with Voldemort's warped and twisted form and the next, I was standing in a library. Dark mahogany shelves stretching on up into the heavens, a plush black rug beneath my feet. There was light hailing down from somewhere but for all of my observations, I couldn't deduce from where. The change took me so by surprise that for a moment I stood, expecting the Dark Lord to jump from the shelves to strike me down. But he didn't. Absent was the taste of smoke, the smell of burned dreams and my friends fighting all around me. There was only the books and the silence. When I died, there was only the library and a man in a suit of sable. A man that called me Master and that I would soon come to call beloved.

Being the Master of Death was no great trial. With Death at my side, we explored vast worlds, universes and realities. He bore both my wonder and inevitable blunders and mishaps with an amused, fond eye. I bore his strict edicts with the rambunctiousness and Gryffindor bravado that I had been so famous for in my youth. Time bore on, as well as time can flow when one bounces from world to world. Every day, my love for my companion grew and every day we watched and reaped the souls of the dead silently and efficiently. Death and I did not return to my home world until I had reached nearly an eon old, by inter-dimensional years, and when we at last received the call to return, it was with the whispered curse of "Bloody Winchesters" on my lover's lips. We were watching over a certain Necromancer vampire slayer in a certain universe when one of our reapers appeared at Death's side. It was a good thing she chose to seek him out because at the moment I found myself occupied on stage, spinning around a pole for the drooling masses. So what if I'd loosened up a little since Hogwarts? Remember what I said about reshuffling of perceptions? The club music pounded all around us, vibrating through my rib cage sensually. The low lights played over my long hair that I flipped like it was a bloody prop, sliding my hips down that shining pole as if it were something much more satisfying. Death's smirking eyes had not moved from my gyrating form. Tessa's eyes slid over me with a glance filled with incredulity. By now, she was well use to my antics. I watched the two of them converse even as my dance ended and the audience begged me for another. I made my bows and rejoined my lover below just as he cursed the thrice damned Winchesters and all of the Heaven-kind along with them.

"We're needed, love. We have Angels beginning apocalypses and all manner of unfortunate events." 

I huffed a short laugh. Humans did seem to think that their problems were the most important at any given moment, didn't they? Ah, well. For all of my immortality, I was still technically one of them. I blame some sort of sick, masochistic nostalgia for my next words. For better or worst, I made the call for us all in that moment.

Sliding into Death's welcoming embrace, I gave him and our Reaper a grin, "End of a world? Sounds like a party."


	2. Those In The Business Of Souls

A/N: Well here it is! As promised! Everyone enjoy and again, I hope that this story inspires more of you writer-types to take up this pairing and write more of it! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Harry Potter. Sod off.  
Warnings: Slash, Dub-con, Violence. More will be added as goes.

Chapter One...Those In The Business of Souls

My Earth was not what I had expected. I had prepared myself for fire and brimstone, given that the apocalypse was supposedly nigh and all. Maybe even a futuristic, shiny metal world that featured in Dudley's old telly programs. My playful demeanor took on a somber shade when I realized that this world was greatly the same. This Earth was no poorer for my absence. The world had continued on without me in it. It was a sobering realization. Silly, really, since I knew that in this time, I would have been gone hardly any time at all and a whole ocean away from my homeland, at that. Even still, I suppose even Death held on to silly thoughts sometimes.

America was different. People drove on the wrong side of the road, the air was all wrong, even the magic flowed differently here. There were only two wizarding communities stateside, one in Salem and another in far off Washington state. For everything in between it was as if the magical world here had never left the wild west. It was held together by individual bands and groups and muggles called hunters were the acting sheriffs. Somehow, it all managed to work rather well. Everyone got their little piece of the freedom pie with as few civilian casualties as possible and it was all hunky dory at the end of the day. That is, until the God Squad had to go and throw a wrench in the entire endeavor. When sibling rivalry took on apocalyptic proportions, it was probably time for a wee bit of family counselling. 

"So what's you're game this time, dearest?" Death asked from his relaxed perch in the maroon chaise the hotel had undoubtedly gotten wholesale from some poor desperate sod. I swear, tacky colors were standard issue in hotel rooms. That had to be a rule somewhere. Thou shalt not have colors pleasing to thine eye. Thou shalt not have comfortably sized bathrooms. Really, it was criminal. I retrieved a neatly rolled piece of paper from my pocket at his inquiry, sliding onto the hideously floral bed comforter with nary a wince. 

"Foods! I made a list of all the different foods you must try while we're on this world. Just because you don't need to eat doesn't mean you can't enjoy it. After all, it's one of life's greatest pleasures so why can't it be Death's too?" 

It was a game we played together. For each new world we visited, I made a list of things for my stoic lover to enjoy. Last time, it had been roller coasters and even though I knew he was just seeing all of the ways he could claim our fellow riders, Death still went and seemed to enjoy himself. I know I had. He chuckled at my little play on words and I grinned, passing over the list, watching him skim it with amusement. 

"Edible underwear?" My mischievous smirk would have put a Trickster to shame.

"We can do that one together. I've always wanted to try those on for size." 

Death stood suddenly from his seat, a tall column seemingly researching for the heavens. Black eyes looked down at me, scorching and endless. The Resurrection Stone pulsed like a living thing on its chain around my neck, an exciting collision of sensations all at once. Like a tap that runs so hot it feels cold at first touch. The wand had been absorbed into my core long ago but nonetheless, vibrated my entire consciousness at its companion's call. The sensory overload forced a strangled moan from deep within my throat. I didn't know when my eyes had closed but suddenly, I was looking through Death's own eyes, gazing down on myself as he slid into place over me. I was flushed, my dark waist length hair spread out over the sheets like a shroud around pale, pale flesh. Magic shone beneath skin like some far away moon pressed into human form, a sight few had the opportunity to see. My emerald eyes had darkened from their impossible green to an unearthly black, colorless as the night sky. The were Death's eyes staring out of my visage, a visual proof of our bond. We were one consciousness, one will in two separate beings. Powerful apart but godlike together. After all, one day, even God would die and we would be there to reap Him when the time came. My vision became my own once more and suddenly my beloved was looming over me as unshakable and steady as he had been since time had taken its first infant breaths. 

"There's no time like the present, Master."

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ 

This whole Apocalypse business could go suck a stone, I decided rather quickly. There we were, enjoying a nice box of Italian petite fours in a tiny cafe in Trieste and living the good unlife, when the feeling of wrongness pervaded our collective senses. As if without warning, my senses had become backwards, trying to turn themselves inside out within me. My eyes slid over to seek out my lover's with a grim gaze. Something had just gone arse over tit and no doubt we would be left to clean up the bloody bodyparts afterwards. A tanned, dredlocked teen plopped down into the seat across from Death suddenly, a with the thievery I'd only come to expect from a particular Trickster, swiped the last little cake right off my plate. His arrival had me so stunned that it took me a full moment of staring to begin to rage.

"God-!"

"Now, now, don't use my name in vain, Little Death. You're going to wear it out." His vivid, cerulean eyes were sparkling with amusement as he moaned in delight around my pilfered treat.

God? Now this was an unexpected surprise. God was apparently vacationing in Italy wearing a rather de classe street urchin suit. His long khaki board shorts were torn at the knees from falls and his elbows were scraped and bruised, his white tshirt bearing the unmistakable stain of a dirty romp in the scenery. All in all, he looked like a kid who had escaped his mother to go tree climbing and rock hopping. And he apparently liked stolen cake. I suppose Gabriel didn't fall far from the tree, after all. I leveled him with a glare that could have stripped paint, pointedly ignoring Death's amusement at my side. He slipped an arm around my waist in a silent show of support and all I could do was lean into it. Good to know that I had his backing if I decided to go to Heavenly war over the treat. 

"Like Father, like Trickster, then?" Sue me if my voice was a little shy of reverent and heavy on the sulking. The deity only seemed to find my annoyance endearing anyways if his grin was anything to go by.

"Without a doubt. But I'm not here about Gabriel today."

"You're here about Lucifer." Death interjected stoically, cutting his last petite four in half and giving me one of the pieces.

Sharing his last tiny cake? Now that was love. No one knew affection like tall, dark and Reaper-y next to me. God's smiling face fell into sadness. Without any notice at all, he looked all at once like the kid he was wearing. A kid whose puppy just got run over by the ice cream man. 

“Sadly...I am. The Winchesters are on their way to destroy Lucifer's First and release him from the cage. We have only minutes. My own firstborns have just murdered the Angel, Castiel, the Winchester's guardian, rather brutally, if I do say so myself. The point is that when Lucifer is released he will kill the hunters but those same humans are the only ones who may put him back in time out. I would like for you to resurrect the Winchesters and Castiel, if you would. I'm sure you can see how necessary they are to this whole process. I can resurrect their bodies on my own but souls of the dead are your department, I'm afraid.” 

Ahh, so God needed his favorite knights put back into play. This tasted awfully lot like a favor and a favor from God was nothing to be sneezed at. Death hummed, his thumb tracing a circle on my hip where it rested fondly. Intrigue filtered in from his side of the connection and I allowed him to take up the conversation, simply taking a moment to enjoy the feel of him pressed against my side. Warm and inviting.

“And what does Death care for the paltry rivalries between Angels? All creatures come and go, Creator. Even you.” His voice was as smooth as smoke. Dangerous. Seductive. 

The dirty deity sighed, his voice downtrodden and miserable.

“You never let me forget it. It is in your best interest to aid the Winchesters and I think you know it. When Lucifer begins his campaign for the end, he will summon the Horseman and you. He will force you to be involved regardless of your wishes. He will drag you and Harry into his war.” My beloved gave no outward indication that those words had affected him but his side of our shared connection, I felt his mind go still as the grave before a burning, righteous fury melted away that frozen resolve. His facial expression remain unmoved but feeling his true internal raging made the facade even more impressive. Let no one say that Death was not protective of his Master. He was quick to defend and a jealous lover but not unpleasantly so, “You will do what you do, Death, I know that. But even you must see that theirs deaths are premature, if anything, and if I know anything it's that your precious Balance is everything to you.”

Oh, ouch. God could play dirty, apparently. If anything got Death by the short and curlies, other than me, of course, it was imbalance. The Balance had to be maintained, that was our entire purpose, after all. The Winchesters and their pet Angel's deaths were premature in accordance to the Balance. Castiel's death was where this overwhelming sense of pervading wrongness echoed from. The Balance had to be corrected, no matter how much I wanted to let them stew in their own stupidity. 

I grimaced and caved in for him, “Damn. Let's do it, love.” I received a dark look from my companion in response. He didn't want to admit it in front of God but we both knew how this conversation was going to end. He simply didn't want to lose face, “C'mon now. We'll do it,” My emerald eyes narrowed in on God with a frown, recalling my love's internal war irritably, “But not for free. You will owe us a favor later. Otherwise, I'm content as a cucumber to leave your moronic Angels to their own Fates. This is just one world, one tiny blip in the vast expanse of all of the worlds we patrol. Earth will be no great loss in the grand scheme, I assure you.” My voice was a hiss, the trees and foliage in the landscape nearby suddenly wilting and leaning under the force of my stirring power. I didn't appreciate some God coming and making my lover and servant feel so tangled up inside. That was my job. Okay, so perhaps I was more jealous than Death was. No one upset him under my watch. 

Sea blue orbs looked at me knowingly but he did not resist my demands, “We both know that isn't how you really feel, Harry. You love this world and it's people, your people, no matter how little they deserve it. However, I will concede to owing you a favor once the boys are resurrected but we must go now. Lillith's lifeblood spills even now. We are out of time for discussion.” 

I hummed in acknowledgment and with a crack like a whip, we were all gone. 

We arrived just in time to see Lucifer escape the spinning vortex in a flash of light, the Winchester brothers burning up in the flash. Bodies disintegrated before my eyes, the bloody portal moaning like the gaping maw of some great beast. The escaping devil rushed by in a wave of intent and as he passed, my eyes caught his own golden gaze for a millimeter of a second. Before it began, he was gone and Death stood with the hunters' souls in hand. I shrugged off the sight of Lucifer's escape and took the souls gently in hand, cradling them together as if they were orbs of glass. As if they were prophecies lining a shelf, fragile and made of glass thin as the skin of a bubble. 

“Go to the library and fetch the Angel Castiel's soul. Return him to his vessel.” Death took my direction with a nod of agreement, a light smile of approval in the shadows of his face. For a moment, God and I were alone with the souls of the two fated to defeat the devil, end the end, so to speak. For a small moment in time, I fought the urge to crush those souls in my hands just to spite all of Destiny and Fate. Like a small child with a bird's egg, unfeeling and sadistically curious. I glanced up at God and sneered as he remained invisible to all but my own eyes. Forever hiding from his own creations, allowing his children to flounder without their father, alone. Children needed boundaries and at times, a firm hand. God, it seemed, in the twenty-first century, had become just as placid and unwilling to take responsibility as the humans he professed to adore. Pathetic. "I will return the hunters to their bodies but after that...I'm in the business of souls and afters. This is the jurisdiction of the living. We will be keeping watch, though." 

God winced at my evident disdain but nodded in gratitude. I wasn't willing to admit it, but he was right. Lucifer would force our hand, force us to get involved eventually. Wasn't it better to take a preemptive measure against him and take precautionary methods on our own time rather than his? Death and I would discuss it. For now, I had a resurrection to see to.


	3. In Which There Were Too Many Winchesters

A/N: Things are stirring up now. How will Harry come out to play now that Lucifer is free?   
Disclaimer: I own nothing!  
Warning: Slash, eventual Dub-Con, Violence, more to come.

Chapter Two...In Which There Were Too Many Winchesters

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there. I do not sleep...

The rain was pouring down outside and somewhere in the night, two brothers were settling down to sleep. Coming back from the dead could be an exhausting business. I would know, I'd done it. A cool pair of soft hands lifted the heavy black robe of my office from my shoulders, letting the material pool to the floor. I knew what Death would see when he divested me of my shirt. The mark of the Hallows tattooed on the flesh of the back of my neck beneath my long hair. The runes and symbols of the Library covered my back, winding out from my spine. It was called many things, the door to that place. The Veil, the Gate, some saw it as a river or even Platform 9 3/4. What it was though, was our place. It was where the essences of Angels and Demons were stored, along with all other manner of beings that hadn't been gifted with souls, in the form of billions of books. Hermione would have had a joy induced aneurysm. It was our home base, our home between worlds, and the key to that door was in the scripts on my flesh. Only Death or I could open that gate and over the years, I had grow increasingly fond of the marks on my skin. They were a visual representation of the divesting of my old life, a mark of the bond between he and I. Death nuzzled the Hallows mark affectionately, hands wrapping around my waist to trace the edges of my bellybutton and the dips in my hips. Our spirits thrummed in mutual contentment, together. How could I have ever had a life before this? Before Death had come into my life? It was harder and harder to imagine such a terrible existence nowadays. In another time and place that would have scared me. 

"You know that we must separate for a time." 

Why was that again? It was difficult to remember with his lips on the back of my neck. Oh, right. That whole Apocalypse buggery. Sigh. Did we have to? 

"I know..." Why did Archangels have to be such a bloody arrogant bunch? That was all this drama boiled down to. Arrogance and hubris. It was worst than an episode of Jerry Springer. It wasn't as if we had never been away from one another. Where was this sudden anxiousness coming from? Lucifer was just a ruddy brat having a tantrum, so why did this feeling of dread settle so heavily in my belly? 

“I must go to my brethren and you must go to the vessels. Try to keep them ahead of God's little Archangel pest.” I didn't respond. It didn't take our bond for him to see my reluctance. His arms around me tightened slightly, “Go, Master. Play the human. I remember a time that you would have been thrilled to be back amongst your own kind.” 

Now didn't that sting just a little? 

“You are my kind.” His look at me was eloquent and I sighed, turning around in his grip, “I know, you're right. As usual. It's just...this world. My old life is here, my old friends and family and that thought scares me a little. I think that maybe I've forgotten how to be that person, that Harry Potter that I use to be.” 

My hand traced his dark aristocratic brow, sunken cheeks and the hollow of his throat, trying to commit each one to memory. It felt as if it were going to be ages before we touched again. His long, pale fingers tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear with a sigh. 

“Perhaps I have been mistaken in hoarding you to myself all of these years. You need to be around other humans. Every so often, at least. I believe that too much of me has leeched into you. You are losing yourself, Master. It's time for you to regain it. Go to the Winchesters and try not to let the hairless apes get to you.” I gave him a small mischievous smile.

“Don't forget the list.” My reward was a laughing huff, a shake of the head. 

“I will not forget your list.” 

“Good.”

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= 

Call me cautious but something told me that just sneaking up on two hunter fresh from the mortal coil would be Gryffindor level stupidity, so I settled for ambushing their pet Angel instead. I waited on the balcony above the brother's latest hotel room, unfurling just enough of that cool power of mine to bring their guard sniffing. It certainly didn't take long. Thank goodness someone in Team Free Will wasn't completely oblivious. Imagine if I had been a demon or Lucifer himself, just hanging out right above the entrance to their rooms. Without the Angel, they would have been sitting ducks. How had these guys survived for so long. Oh right. Resurrection and all that rot. The flapping sound of wings alerted me to the coming of their feathered compadre. 

“Master of Death.” 

I really didn't care for Angels too much. Pompous wankers, the lot of them, especially those bleeding Archangels. Not a single individual thought in their heads. They reminded me far too much of the lonely little boy that I use to be and the omniscient grandfather watching over me. Fat load of good it did anyone, namely me. For the sake of the mission though, for Death, I would make a good, solid effort to like the Winchesters' holy tax accountant.

“Castiel. Lovely evening air, isn't it? Death spoke to you yesterday about my arrival, yeah?” My tone was light, almost friendly, but it didn't stop the flash of a grimace from striking across Castiel's face like lightning. Well that was interesting. I wonder what Death could have said to him to elicit such a reaction just at his mention. 

“He did. Dean was not pleased but I have convinced the two of them of your usefulness in bringing down Lucifer.” 

I took a moment to observe the fallen man that I would be living in close proximity with. Castiel looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. There were heavy, dark bags beneath his blue eyes like smears on his lightly tanned skin. His brow was furrowed as if he were more accustomed to frowning than smiling. His clothing and sandy colored trench coat both appeared worn and tired. All in all, it didn't seem as if the Apocalypse and the Winchester brothers were treating him very well. He reminded me a little of the old Harry Potter during Voldemort's rise. Half-panicked all the time but too proud to let anyone else see it. Looking into his eyes for a moment, I felt as if I were gazing into a mirror from long ago. He took a step towards me and the illusion was broken. 

“I can't work miracles, you know. I'm not all powerful and I can't be the cure all panacea that those two seem to think you are. I won't live under that expectation the way you do.” 

My stance on that had to be very clear. It wasn't hard to see that Castiel was trying and failing to live up to those expectations. His whole demeanor appeared sunken and hunched.   
For the first time since meeting me here, he looked away. His gaze fell out into the night, observing the stars like the answers to all of his questions lay in the heavens from which he had descended. It was a forlorn expression, one that part of me that I had begun to forget called out to in camaraderie. Such a strange reaction to such a stranger. 

“I have failed that expectation. I was not able to stop Lucifer's escape. Now I have fears. Doubts about my orders and purpose...I wish to find God. If anyone can shed light on this situation and its solution, it is my Father.” 

If only. God would not get involved. He was a parent who had just found his favorite child beating the dog, disbelieving and unwilling to hurt the child he loved enough to step in. Lucifer would not be disciplined by his creator. No, it was up to us, this strange little group we would form here tonight.

“You need to stay. God will not help us now, take my word on that. He loves his children too much to interfere.” He turned on me with shocked eyes wide with the desperate need to believe in his creator. His face begged me to be telling a falsehood but my voice held only truth.

“You spoke to him?” 

“I did. But that isn't all. Lucifer has freed the first Horseman, War, and he is holing up in some little town in Colorado at the moment, probably driving the civilians there mad as a bag of cats.” I snorted, crossing my arms at the image my mind conjured up. 

“Why would there be cats in a bag?” Oh, there is that infamous Angel obliviousness. 

I gave him an amused grin and a light glance up and down. Castiel looked like he could use a good meal or two. No doubt those brothers hadn't even thought to ask after his own needs. Sure, he wasn't required to eat but without some sort of sustenance, his powers would begin to wane now that he was cut off from Heaven. I may not be all powerful, but a good meal was certainly no hardship. 

“Castiel, have you ever had an eggy toast? Rather a fantastic little dish, if I do say so myself. Show me inside and I'll make enough for everyone while we get this whole Team meet-and-greet over with.” I asked, taking a moment to Apparate to the ground below. My new companion looked down on me with an expression filled with intrigue either at the blatant use of magic or at the concept of the strange food. I couldn't be there to share in the new tastes and treats with my beloved but at least I could introduce my new traveling companions to some actual homemade food rather than the diner fare they were no doubt accustomed to. He joined me on the ground, nodding in assent and lead me inside the shady hotel room without another word. 

Within were the infamous Winchesters. I'll admit, they weren't what I had been expecting. Dean looked like some sort of biker themed Mr. February and Sam had that just shy of awkward height hiding an impressive frame beneath that ghastly, slacker plaid. Both of them were easy on the eyes, in a conventional sort of way. No doubt they both had their fair share of broken hearts and backseat conquests spread out across their hunting careers. Unfortunately, no matter how attractive they made have been, the mistrust and disdain in their eyes ruined the whole package.

“So you're the Master of Death that's supposed to come help save the day? You don't look like much to me. You're a kid! What are you sixteen?” Dean's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his hands running a cleaning cloth over the disassembled pieces of a rifle. The threat was palpable and blatant. These were men who had been betrayed by friends and allies before and would rather shoot first before it happened again. 

“Well I was seventeen when I died as a human but I'm approximately 12,437 years old. Give or take a few. That whole Master of Death thing, you know. Kind of negates the death part. Plus, that man would be bored to tears without me. Now, if you don't mind, your feather-head here looks like he needs a good meal in him and you two aren't far behind. Fortunately for you poor sods, I happen to be nothing to sneeze at in the kitchen, so let make us all some food and we'll Treaty of Paris this until you're all satisfied, yeah?”   
His speech only seemed to take them off guard but the mention of food brought a man in a wheelchair rolling into the room with a dismayed, yet strangely interested expression on his face. 

“Never had an enemy offer to feed us before.” His heavy southern drawl was brusque and homey. Stern and as resolute as titanium, “But first things first. Cas?” 

I had just enough time to see Castiel give me a small, apologetic smile, a flask in hand, before holy water was dumped unceremoniously over my head. What had I signed myself up for?


	4. A Matter of Much Speculation

A/N: Alrightie ladies and gents, I'd like to address something that seems to be making a few of you a little leery in regards to Harry in this story.

Harry is not some all powerful being. He is the Master of Death, yes, but that does not mean that he is as powerful as Death himself. He has his wizarding powers and a few powers he learned from Death over the years but he isn't some super powerful being. 

I hope that puts some of your minds at ease and please enjoy the new chapter! Also I would like to dedicate this chapter to Seraphinus for a great review! Thanks so much! :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Bugger off.

Chapter Three...A Matter of Much Speculation

Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I did not die...

I had been put to every test and trial that Sam and Dean could think of and then a few extra thrown in for good measure. Castiel simply stood by, watching and nodding, eating the eggy toast I'd cooked everyone as if it were manna from Heaven, pun completely intended. The way to a man's heart was through his stomach and apparently, that old adage applied to fallen Angels as well. Bobby Singer sat at his side, devouring his own portion thoughtfully, watching me dig through the duffel at my side. 

"So what exactly are you looking for in there? You've been digging around in it for ten whole minutes now." Sam questioned from his computer where he had been researching the Four Horseman since my newsflash that War was on the prowl. I had to give these boys one thing, they certainly didn't waste any time mobilizing. They were efficient. That was good. We would need all of the efficiency we could get to bring down Lucifer. If only could find that damned-! My head was practically crammed into the sodding bag to my companions amusement.

"Tessa." 

Sam frowned, looking more and more like a gangling Saint Bernard the deeper the expression became. Dean could put that kid in a dog show and make a killing.

"Tessa? What's that?" 

"It's me." A female voice cut through the dimness of the room without warning. Judging by the hunters' reactions, I think it was safe to say they weren't expecting company. Again. 

The click of three guns sounded before I even had the chance to sit back up. The Reaper had seemingly come from thin air to appear before us all and she looked none too happy about having a mess of firearms staring her down. I knew she hadn't come from nowhere though. I had felt her tailing me, hiding unseen nearby since my departure. No doubt she'd been ordered to watch over me. She looked the same as ever. Same dark eyes and smart hair cut, same pretty pale face. Death kept her as unchanging as her Master and it suited her well. Her diligence earned her a bright smile at the same moment that my hand found the porcelain plate that I had been searching for at last. 

The Winchesters and Bobby's shock became all too apparent when, from out of the depths of my duffel bag, I retrieved an entire two layer chocolate frosted cake complete with strawberry garnishes on the top. Admittedly, if you weren't use to the show of the unusual, it probably would shock and astound. As it was, things like expandable bags and stasis charms had been commonplace even when I was alive. But none of the boys had ever been wizards or seen anything of the sort in their travels. Naturally, they were incapable of keeping their amazement to themselves.

"Woah, man! You got a kitchen witch bag going on there or what?"

"Holy mother of-"

"Wait, Reaper Tessa?" Trust Dean to focus on the life and death situation at hand instead of on the enormous cake that had just been pulled out of my clearly too small satchel.   
My lieutenant and I shared an eye roll at their collective expense. 

"Hello again, Dean." She said dryly, sparing him only a moment of her attention before turning back to me at last, "What can I do for you, Master?" 

"Wait. Master?" Did that guy ever let anyone else get a word in? Really. Terribly rude. I know that he was raised in the back seat of an Impala but one would think Dean would have picked up some manner of manners in his thirty years of life, "Since when?"

"Heellloooooo? Master. Of. Death. That means that his underlings are my underlings. Now, if you wouldn't mind, Dean, shut up. Tessa, I need you to hunt down a certain Trickster for me. Find Gabriel and bring him to me, please. Oh, and luv, don't forget to tell him there's cake for him and more where that came from if he comes without a fuss, yeah?" I gave her a smile full of gratitude when she simply nodded and disappeared. I liked Tessa, I really did. Loyal to a fault and intelligent, which as Voldemort discovered so long ago, was not an easy combination to come by. 

The cake found its home on the kitchen table and I plopped down in a chair next to Cas, snagging his last eggy, a saucy smirk tossed at his satisfied expression. Of course there would be no peace until I explained myself, no doubt, so before the eldest two could launch into a schpiel, I started explaining without giving them a backwards glance.

“The Trickster isn't a Trickster, he's the Archangel Gabriel in hiding. You're going to need an ally with insight into the Lucifer and Michael situation and fortunately for you, Gabriel and I are well acquainted.” My words were firm and resolute, leaving no room for discussion.

Castiel was actually the first to express his opinion which surprised me a little. Out of all of Team Free Will, I expected him to have the most reservations about the plan, given his shared history with the Archangels and all. 

“It is a good plan, Harry.” He told me with a nod of approval.

“Thank you.” 

Dean rolled his hazel eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “bitch.”

“Now, now, Dean, that isn't very nice. Just because wittle Harry bottoms, doesn't mean he's Death's bitch.” Gabriel was suddenly standing by the cake with his typical Give-Em-Hell, unapologetic dirt-eating smirk. 

Only Sam got past his sudden appearance to realize the implications of his words, and the moose choked on his beer in surprise. So I hadn't made my relationship a big thing, big deal. A Hunter hears that your sexing up Death on a regular basis and they get all suspicious and uncomfortable. People could be so narrow minded sometimes.

“You're just jealous I don't bottom for you, Angel.” He snorted, slicing himself a big piece of the treat. A grimace smeared across his usually cocky expression.

“They know now then?” I nodded apologetically, “Well the jig is up then, I guess. And I suppose you want me to get involved in my brothers' little spat, don't you?” 

There was some regret inside me for giving away Gabriel's secret. He had tried so hard to stay out of Michael and Lucifer's war, even left his family and home behind for life on Earth amongst the humans. He had given away much for anonymity and here I was, pulling him right back into the fray like a bloody arsehole. 

“Just your help, Brie. That's all. They need not know it's you and you don't have to face Michael or Lucifer face to face. But we could really use another Angel on deck. Do this for me...and we'll call the debt between us repayed, alright?” That was the least I could do for what we would need of him. I had no doubt that Gabriel would be coming through for us and I'd held that silly debt over him long enough now.

His smile was grim, not a trace of happiness in it to be found. A fork was hovering pensively over his food as if the conversation had stolen his tenacious appetite, “Pretty to think so. If I'm in for a penny, I'm in for a pound though. You sure know how to make it worth my while. I dance your Apocalypse Tango and you square away that little misunderstanding between you, me and Death. Fair trade, I suppose, or at least as fair as I can expect.” At last he dove into the cake though there was none of his usual zeal that I had come to anticipate. 

“An Archangel owes the Master of Death a debt? Now this I've gotta hear about.” Bobby insisted, his voice painted with incredulity from his place by Dean's lounge chair. 

For once Gabriel was silent. In fact, he seemed almost hesitant to speak on it. The infamous Trickster struck silent? Now that was a sight worth seeing. Fortunately for my ever inquisitive companions, I had no such qualms about the situation. I gave the aged hunter a saucy grin, lifting my cup of Earl Grey to savor the heavenly aroma. It blended well with the taste of Gabriel's disquiet. 

“Indeed. Our Trickster here got a mite amorous about three centuries ago and unfortunately for him, Death is a very jealous lover. He took offense and wanted Brie's life in recompense for the slight. It was only my will that kept him off the chopping block and from then on Gabriel has owed me a life debt for saving his life. Death still holds a grudge, by the way.” The Archangel's only response was a wince and a low mumbling under his breath into his cake. 

“So you and Death are...together? And that whole Master of Death deal, that some sort of kinky sex thing?”

“Dean!” Sam's shout of indignant mortification had me reduced to peals of hilarity and our new ally hacking up chocolate frosting in shocked laughter.

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

I couldn't sleep. It had been an eon since I had slept alone and now that Death was not at my side, I couldn't manage even a moment of rest. Not without his arms around me, his warmth pressed at my side. What was this feeling that I was experiencing? This heaviness in the pit of my chest. I felt as if once I had been very familiar with this weightiness like an old friend, a constant companion. Yet this sensation had been buried beneath centuries of love and tenderness, of the loss of my humanity. Now it was merely a half remembered shadow of a memory, faded but present still, clinging to life within me. A spark just beginning to find new breath, new life to kindle. A cool wind blew a few unbound strands of hair across my face. I half expected a beloved, protective hand to reach up to tuck them back behind my ear as always but nothing came. No gentle touch. No whisper of presence at my back. My throat tightened and I choked out a small gasp. At last, the name of this feeling came to me, no longer as elusive as fog in the wind.

Loneliness. 

I missed him. Missed his cool snark, his directness, the silent affection and the silly little games we played. I missed his presence. I missed him. 

“Master, are you alright?” Tessa. Dependable to a fault, as always. She was as steady and reliable as the sun and moon. She touched my shoulder lightly, making me suddenly aware of how much shorter than her I was. A product of my poor upbringing, no doubt. I turned emerald eyes to her, uncomfortably aware of the moisture gathered there. When had that happened? 

“Tessa...I believe that I'm lonely, dear one. I miss Death. Everything about him. His absence is like a gaping hole in my consciousness. Our bond feels stretched and far away.” I sighed shakily, staring once more out into the night as if it could somehow materialize my loved one from the darkness, “Before we parted, he said that he feared that I had lost myself along the way. That I had taken in too much of him. Forgotten my humanity. At the time, I scoffed a little at those words. Now...now I wonder, Tessa.” 

To my surprise, my lieutenant didn't say anything at first. Without an ounce of hesitation, she wrapped a kind, caring arm around my shoulders and hugged me. She felt so solid next to me that, entirely without my permission, I actually started to feel a little better.

“You have spent the last eon learning to be a good master, Harry. You've learned to lead, to Reap, to keep the Natural Order in place no matter your personal feelings on the matter. You learned to be our Master but now it's time to relearn how to be yourself. You've spent so much time learning to be Death that you've forgotten how to be the loving human that you are, the human that Death fell in love with. I can't presume to know what Death is thinking but if I were in love, Harry, I would want nothing but that person's happiness, their well being. I would want the best for them. Even if they had be separated from me for a time to achieve that. And if I were in love? I think I'd be missing you something awful too.” 

Oh, Tessa. If anyone else saw me give her the biggest hug back, I would deny it forever. 

A/N: To be honest, I'm really not sure how I feel about this chapter. I'm not sure I like it, so let me know what all of you think! It's been a difficult writing day for me lol.


	5. The Devil That You Know

A/N: Chapter four! We're getting there ladies and gents! This chapter corresponds to episode 5x2 “Good God, Y'all”. I know the story is kind of jumping around at this point but I hope all of you are enjoying it nonetheless.

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter Four...The Devil That You Know

If I forgot who I am, would you please remind me? Cause without you things go hazy...

The call for aid from Colorado came early the next morning. A hunter named Rufus phoned from the front lines of a town supposedly lousy with demons. A horde had possessed the entire town, apparently, and now the lines had been drawn in the sand and they were reduced to picking each other off via suburban guerrilla warfare. So I sent Tessa and Gabriel on ahead to scope out the town and Cas and I slid unceremoniously in the back of the Impala. In comparison to the teleportation that Death used or wizarding forms of travel, being in a car again simply seemed tedious. The time spent in close quarters certainly brought up some interesting conversation, though. For all of Dean's telling Sam to shut up, he sure could pipe in plenty on his own. 

"So now that we're batting on the same ball team, Mr. Death Master, got an afterlife question for you."

"Very well."

"Where do Angels and Demons go when they gank it? I mean, where does a bad little demon go? Back to hell?"

"They go to the Library, of course." I passed Castiel a sandwich with a friendly smile, the expression growing when he offered me one of his own. The brothers may treat him like he wasn't a person, just some pet to be ignored when he wasn't useful, but I wouldn't do the same. Just because Cas wasn't an emotional creature didn't mean he didn't have feelings. He just didn't necessarily understand those emotions all of the time. 

"A library? We talking Doctor Seuss for baddies here?"

"Not quite. You see, Angels and Demons don't have souls, just essences, really. Demons, unlike angels, began as humans but somehow, the transformation destroys the humanity that makes up the soul, leaving behind only a shadow of itself. Because Demons were once human, though, and Angels aren't creatures like your standard issue vamps and shifters, purgatory has no room at the inn either. So, we reap them and collect their essences into books that serve as not only a container for that essence but as a record of that Angel's life and deeds. You should see the laundry list that prick Zachariah has coming to him."

"And what about you?” Good old Sam, the academic, always fishing for more information. Unlike his brother, he wanted to know the why's and the how's, not just the 'what is it and how do I kill it', “What happens when you die?" 

"I don't die. Even if I were crushed into liquid, or incinerated, even if I killed myself, I would always come back. Bloody annoying bit though, that's for sure. I still feel everything." Dying hurt and I tried not to make it a regular habit. Just because I was immortal, didn't mean my body wasn't still human. Burning to death hurt me just as much as the average joe.

"But doesn't it get boring living forever? It sounds like a lonely existence." St. Bernard boy did have one thing over his older brother. At least he didn't have the emotional range of a tea spoon. 

"I imagine it would be if I didn't have Death. He's the Thelma to my Louise, the Spock to my Kirk." The comparison made me grin. Imagining Death and I in the Winchester's Impala, driving off of the Grand Canyon was a rather amusing image. 

"The David Bowie to your Ziggy Stardust?"

"Shut up, Dean." 

The town looked like something out of some daytime zombie apocalypse film. There wasn't a soul to be seen. Cars turned over or discarded in the middle of the street, debris scattered here and there. An eerie silence reigned over the area. It took only a moment before the brothers were digging their preferred weapons from the cache in their trunk. Brie was nowhere to be found so far but I wasn't worried. He was honorable. Ridiculous, but honorable. He would keep his word. 

“Alright, so what's the plan here?” Sam was checking the ammunition in his Beretta, casting a wary glance round the still neighborhood. It was a Tuesday afternoon, there should be kids on bicycles, pet owners walking their dogs, adults on their way to work. But there was nothing. Only the quiet. “And where is everyone? This place should be bustling this time of day.” 

“This place is crawling with Reapers. Many are already dead, no doubt victims of the demon horde.” Castiel murmured and tilted his head curiously when he caught me casting discreet shield charms at the brothers. I touched his arm next, willing the protective charm to spread over his vessel quickly. I wasn't taking any risks with any of my new comrades, angel or not. 

“Cas is right. All we can do is help those that are left by solving the problem at hand. War won't stand out of a crowd. He'll be disguised as one of the civilians, without a doubt."

"How do you know?"

"Well that's how he always comes, isn't it? A quest to free a nation, the search for new lands or to spread the good word? War rides in on the backs of Humanity's good intentions. You guys are going to seek him out and I'm going to look around."

"Wait, you're not going to help? This place is crawling with demons!" The elder Winchester's indignation was catching and a frown colored his brother's expression. 

"Cas and Brie will be plenty for you. I want to scope out the town. If War is here then there's a chance that Lucifer may not be far ahead. Also, wherever war wages, death will surely be. There are Reapers here, certainly, but I want to see if the big daddy is here as well. If he has come to this town, I'll be able to sense him." The thought of Death being here, of being able to see him again, sent a thrill of anxious excitement through my being. The chances were good. After all, War was his brother and, as Dean and Sam proved time after time, family stuck together. The Horseman would look after one another, even if it was from afar. 

"Big Daddy? Why does it just sound really creepy when you say it?" Dean's snark earned him a swat on the back of the head. 

“Sod off, wanker. Now remember, gents, and this is very important. You must not engage War without me. Please. He is only doing Lucifer's will and Death will be very very cross if you maim his brother.” If Death was protective of anything it was me, family and the Natural Order. He would not thank the Winchesters for taking out his brothers, but perhaps there was a way, “I believe that I can talk to him. Convince him to give up his ring in order to break the bond Lucifer has him under. No ring, no problem. It's the focus of his power so if I can convince him to give it up, we take a major player out of the game.” I twisted the Gaunt Ring on its chain self-consciously, reminded all too well of its pale partner on my beloved's hand. 

If or when Lucifer made his bid for the final Horseman, I wasn't sure what would happen. Would he be able to bind Death? Could Death have two Masters? Or would Lucifer first need to bind me? The thought was a terrifying one. I was, in essence, my lover's biggest weakness. He had always claimed it to be a strength but I couldn't see how. I had learned long ago to simply accept Death's near omniscience, though. If he felt the need to share his reasonings or decisions with me, he would. If it was of relevance, my lover had never been stingy with information. Merlin, I missed him, especially now.

“We'll make no promises. How will you know when we've found him?”

“Simply call for Tessa or Gabriel. Either one should be able to find me immediately.” 

Our parting was quick and silent and before I knew it, I was left to wander the town alone. It was eerie, really. No birds sounding, no dogs barking. It wasn't difficult to imagine that this was what the world was like before God had put creatures on it. There was the smell of blood on the air, a very light, tangy, coppery scent. Reapers were the only movement on the dead street. They meandered here and there, nodding respectfully to me as they passed on their way to collecting the souls of the departed where they fell. When one came close enough, I took to running a hand down their arms or back in fond acknowledgment. Death and I may never have a real, live family together. We would never have the whole Molly Weasley, white picket fence scene but the Reapers were ours. Our family, our children, as I had come to see them. Ours to watch over and protect. Dying was a business of sorts and we were very good bosses, good parents. Tessa was like the mother hen, eldest daughter. Always seeing to my health and happiness before her own. I could say with ease that she was one of my favored Reapers, closer to me than any other. That reason alone was likely why Death had entrusted my safety to her. He chose well. As always. 

“What strange company you keep, Master of Death. A fallen Angel, two vessels and my own brother. How very intriguing you are to me.”

And there he was. The Devil himself, Lucifer in the flesh, leaning against some poor soul's front porch as if he owned it. It was an unusually domestic scene. He had found a meat suit that fit him rather well. Handsome with a face that could deceive kindness and sincerity easily. Yet his eyes gave away the darkness inside of him. An ancient hurt, a grudge that had only festered and grown in his long captivity. 

“Yes, well, half of them are no company at all, I assure you.”

“Is that so? How tragic. And what does your lover think of the company you keep? I have heard he is rather the...possessive type.” His voice came to me in a soft quip, a smirk darkening the supposedly polite conversation. I hummed in response. What could he want? Was he fishing for information on Death? Trying to win my sympathies? Where was he going with this? 

“No more than I enjoy.” Was my simple answer. 

“Yes, Death is a very lucky man to have you.” He whispered and finally stepped away from the light blue porch to come my way slowly. Lucifer smiled, an attempt to look harmless without a doubt, holding up his hands as if to show that he was unarmed. We both knew that he needed no weapon to do damage. Yet on the other hand, I couldn't die, so we were at an impasse. It never hurt, however, to exercise caution, especially when dealing with devils. He approached me softly, eyes taking in my appearance keenly, “Yes, lucky indeed. For you...are the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld. In all of Heaven and Earth.”

Oh. Oh, dear. This conversation had just taken a turn I did not expect in the least. Death was not going to be pleased at this turn of events. I was nearly too stunned to give a flippant answer back, “Or Hell?” His smile turned sly and poisonous at the mention of it. 

“When I came from the Cage, that moment when my essence escaped, the first thing I saw, the very first thing, was not the cold stone of the monastery, nor the darkness of the room. Not even the blood of my First. It was green. An impossible green the likes of which I had never seen. The first thing I saw was you and you have infected my mind with the voracity of a plague.” His eyes were burning now, desire, not only for me but for the power I held within, raging like a fire within the Pit inside those depths. 

How did one turn down the Devil? “Sorry but I'll be glad to see you back to Hell any day?” Talk about awkward discussions. 

“Well, you certainly know how to flatter. But then again, you are known for your silver tongue.”

“It is no lie I offer you now, Master of Death. I offer you only myself, a place at my side, a share of my power. In exchange for the same from you. It could be beautiful.” Lucifer breathed as he circled me like a predator stalking prey. 

This was not good. I suppose it shouldn't have come as a surprise. This was Lucifer's preemptive strike, an early bid to see if Death would comply without forcefully binding him first. To be honest, it was making me rather nervous, though. The fallen Archangel had suddenly become unpredictable. Taken an interest in me personally rather than simply as the Master of Death and that made things suddenly more dangerous. If my sigh came out slightly shaky he didn't comment on it.

“You know that I can't do that, Lucifer. Natural Order, you know. Plus that whole 'practically married soul-bonded to Death' bit.” Archangels were already on my sweetie's short list. Like he needed another reason to dislike the lot of them. I didn't blame them. Easily half of them had already proven to be bloody useless. The only one worth anything was Gabriel and he was the very definition of 'troublemaker'. He nodded as if he had expected my rejection all along but he didn't appear altogether unhappy about it. My response had pleased him. He'd wanted me to say no? Lucifer reached out and it took everything within me not to recoil from his touch. Fingers traced down my cheek, a strange, almost possessive gleam in his eye.

“Very well then, Harry Potter. But I will be seeing you again. Very soon.” With that final word, he turned and disappeared from the street leaving me breathless with anxiety and sharp uncertainty. 

If only Death had been here. This mission had gotten abruptly more complicated than we had originally perceived. Or had it? Really, the perimeters of the thing were the same. Collect the Horsemen's rings, keep the Winchesters alive, shove Lucifer's flirting arse back into the Cage. The basics hadn't changed. I would just have to be more aware, more careful. The thought didn't make my urge to see my lover any less, though. But Death was not here, despite my admittedly desperate hope. Only War and now that Lucifer had made his exit, it was time for me to take care of him.


	6. Something Wicked This Way Comes

A/N: Thanks so much for everyone's wonderful support! On this story's fifth day, it's already had 5,500 views! Thank you especially for everyone who favorited and reviewed, you guys are amazing! 

Disclaimer: I own nothing, wanker. Don't sue me.

Chapter Five...Something Wicked This Way Comes

What if I went and lost myself? Would you know where to find me...

It took some effort to shake off the disturbed anxiety that ran through me. My encounter with Lucifer was foreboding and had shaken me. Even after he had gone somehow it felt as if he were watching. The only thought that gave me any sort of comfort was that, somewhere, even if it was only via the Reapers, Death was watching over me too. I had to hold onto that knowledge. With a quick turn, I apparated to Tessa's energy signature that stood out to me like the beacon of of lighthouse, hoping that she would be watching over the wayward brothers and angels. She was. Unfortunately, Sam and Dean both had War pressed up against his red Camaro, a knife at the ready to saw off the man's fingers. Sigh. Typical. These two really had a following directions problem. Castiel was nowhere to be found, Gabriel either. Where were the voices of reason when you needed them? If those ridiculous Winchesters had let Castiel get hurt and just left him somewhere, I was throwing Dean's bloody arse back in the pit myself. Ruddy Americans. 

"Boys, boys, boys. I'm fairly certain that I left you with very specific instructions. If I had known you had a short term memory problem, I would have written it down for you." My words were sharp knives thrown at the two and Sam and Dean both visibly winced when they made contact. I gave a nod to the now fully intrigued Horseman being restrained. It wasn't lost on anyone that Sam had not removed the knife, though his progress towards War's fingers had halted, "Hello, War." 

"If it isn't Baby Death. Still boning your bone daddy?" The elder hunter shuddered in disgust at the phrasing and I grinned unapologetically at his discomfort. 

"All day, everyday. So here's how it's going to go, darling. I don't want the Winchesters to give you the chop here. Death would be very upset if I let my brother-in-law get injured so and I'm rather certain you'd like to avoid being rendered comatose as well. That leaves us with one alternative. You can give us your ring willingly and we can use it to unbind you and shove Lucy's arse back into Hell. I know we're all ready to go back to our day jobs, so if you'll lend us your cooperation, this can all go so much more smoothly." My voice was friendly and light as I joined the three, stopping to lean unconcernedly on the hot rod. 

War's eyes narrowed at me and he took in my appearance like he could discern my every internal musing just by looking at me. If I had been a normal human, he could have, but even if magic hadn't been racing through my body, I was his eldest brother's Master. The Horseman's powers would not work on me just as Death kept me from his namesake. The Horseman would not risk his brother's wrath in attempting to injure me, in any case. Death's short list grew shorter everyday.

"You're working with the Winchesters then? And my brother has sanctioned this?"

"He has. Something about being caught under the thumb of a raging brat he found entirely too distasteful to be tolerated." The man hummed thoughtfully. Death had a very good point. Compared to the Four, Lucifer was a baby.

"And what do you plan to do when Lucifer tries to summon Death himself?" My stiffening posture was all too obvious for the three watching closely, "Your time is coming, Little Death. You're the last piece of the pie with the Apocalypse as the whipped cream and cherry on top and, hate to break it to you, but Lucifer's first in line. He can't wage his End of Days without Death. You're his grand prize and he's going to stop at nothing to have you at his beck and call." War didn't sound all that upset by this fact. I suppose that shouldn't have surprised me, coming from a man who thrived on conflict. 

"I've...been made aware of Lucifer's interest in me. Now, are we doing this the easy way or the hard way, War? I really don't want to let Sam take your little piggies off, personally. Help us willingly and I will see to it that your binding is broken myself." 

Sam's hand around the blade tightened threateningly and the Horseman winced at the reminder of the imminent loss of his digits. War nodded at last and slid the golden wedding ring off, passing it to me slowly as if he were already regretting the decision.

"Your word?"

"My word as not only the Master of Death, but as his lover as well. I won't let down family, no matter what the outcome of this Apocalypse may be." I assured him sincerely, letting him see the honesty in my emerald eyes. The gold trinket dropped into my hand and the Horseman and his red Camaro disappeared into thin air. The brothers cast their sights around looking for hide or hair of the entity but War was nowhere to be found. He didn't seem to be aware of the creep factor that Lucifer's interest in me had taken, but for all I knew, that could just be part of the charade. He was the Great Seducer, after all. It was all I could do but hope that was the case. Surely the Devil wasn't actually attracted to me? That would just be so...unexpected. Ridiculous, even. The silly idea was shoved to the back of my mind into a box, but no matter how far from me I tried to put it, the thought persisted. A dark shadow haunting the back of my thoughts, "I told you twits to wait for me. Where are Cas and Brie?" 

Dean's shrug was one that belied his unconcerned state for both his companions and his near screw up, "Healing up what civilians and hunters are left back at the bunker. So, anyone up for a trip to Mount Doom?"

Bloody Winchesters. 

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= 

“Harry? What are you doing outside alone?" Castiel's voice reached me from far away as he alighted on the hotel roof next to me. I had been so deep in thought that I hadn't even considered that I had been up here for a few hours now. Tessa had been waiting all this time invisible and silent below on the ground, offering me some measure of privacy without abandoning her job as guardian. A small twinge of guilt swarmed inside my belly at making her stand outside all night, motionless and ignored. That was how the Winchesters treated Castiel, not how I treated my people. Without any regard for their comfort or well being until they were too injured to be of use. That wasn't my way. I took care of my people. Castiel tilted his head at me in question and I gave him a smile, patting the space next to me for him to sit, "Do you not wish to join in the after mission festivities?"

The snort that burst from me would not be contained.

"Drinking and feasting on take-out? No thanks." My face fell into a frown, the anxiousness in my belly refusing to be ignored for longer than a moment, "Castiel, I feel...uncertainty. Anxiousness. When you and the others were searching the town for War...I encountered Lucifer in one of the neighborhoods there." 

"Lucifer spoke to you?" He had lost all lightness, that familiar seriousness taking him over. Same old Cas. Merlin, I hoped he never changed. He was like Old Faithful. Oh, the puns. 

"He did. He, er, propositioned me." Confusion was the virginal Angel's main attribute until I clarified for him with an awkward cough of embarrassment, "Intimately." Blue eyes widened comically and the urge to laugh was strong. If only the situation hadn't been so serious, "He said that he wanted me at his side, that I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in Heaven or Earth. That he couldn't get me off his mind." 

Castiel grimaced, standing up suddenly to pace back and forth along the roof. If anyone below could have seen us, we would have made a very unusual picture indeed. A man wearing a trench coat in the middle of summer, pacing on the roof and me, with my long unbound hair just sitting there like the roof of some shady hotel was a perfectly proper place to gather my thoughts. Totally natural. At last, my companion spoke, stiffly as if he were minutely uncomfortable with the conversation at hand. Cas didn't seem to know what to make of it all. That was okay. Neither did I.

"Well, Lucifer is an Angel and Angels can't lie. It appears the Devil fancies you, at least a little, Harry."

A sigh tore itself out of my chest desperately, "I was afraid of that. The problem is...do I tell Death or shouldn't I? I mean, really, nothing has changed. The mission is still the same. Shove the bastard back into the Cage so he can't bring about the Apocalypse. That is still the same. Now...now, we'll just have to do that before he tries to summon Death." A shiver of fear rolled down my body at the thought. We would be in a right state if we didn't manage to put the world back to rights before then. I was the Master of Death, true, but I feared what Lucifer would do if or when that time came and his wished were still refused. I was immortal. I couldn't die, but all that meant was that I could be tortured for a very very long time. Every moment would be felt like an eternity and I was afraid that, if tortured long enough, I wouldn't be able to resist the urge to just make it stop. To take the easy way out. The look on Death's face if that happened...He would be so disappointed in me. No. No, we had to succeed. We had to put Lucifer back before that time came. 

"What will happen when he summons Death? You could simply order him to disobey Lucifer, correct?" 

"That's the best case scenario. The worst case scenario would be that Lucifer summons Death and, since Death is already bound to me, his spell summons the Master instead. Me. If that time comes and Lucifer doesn't get his way, well, let's just say that an eternity at his mercy is not how I want to spend my life. I'm afraid that I won't be able to stand up under his tender mercies should he resort to torture. And not all torture is of the physical variety. I've found myself divided on which route I should take, Castiel." We could only hope for the best case, but let's be real. I was Harry bloody Potter. When did Fate ever do me any favors? When did things ever go the way we'd hoped they would? Never. 

Castiel sat by my side once more and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. Angel or not, I think that Cas was beginning to worm his way into my heart as a very good friend. He was dependable, resilient and kind, despite how ill the Winchesters may treat him. Castiel was a good man and I was glad to see that he was beginning to get some color back in his cheeks, the bags under his eyes lifting little by little. Even Angels need a little TLC from time to time. Everyone needed someone to care about them. Maybe Lucifer would have turned out differently if he had someone to care for him in the beginning? Hell, maybe Tom Riddle wouldn't have gone off the deep end if he'd only been adopted by someone willing to love the little sod. Who knew? The world could have ended up a very different place. My life could have been so contrary if only someone had taken the time and effort to show one lonely boy some kindness. 

“You will decide which path is best, Harry. You will resist Lucifer and no matter what anyone may think, I will know that you've done your best. I have faith in you. Have some in yourself.” 

Wow. That was strangely inspiring of him. Maybe I would try and hook Castiel and Tessa up. They were both brilliant at somehow managing to cheer me up. Maybe they would be good for one another? An Angel and a Reaper. It could work. After all, Death and I had.


	7. A Devil A Day Keeps Archangels At Bay

A/N: So we're averaging a little over a thousand views a chapter! Cool. :) Keep it up, ladies and gents, and remember. Reviews are the food that feeds our muses! This chapter coincides with episode 5x10, “Abandon All Hope” and you know what that means! One of my favorite characters: Crowley! :D

Disclaimer: Nada. No sue.

Chapter Six...A Devil A Day Keeps Archangels At Bay

I decided to wait to bother my beloved with something as trivial as Lucifer's fancies. After all, if we were successful in collecting Famine and Pestilence's rings, it would make no difference. We could send the devil back to the Pit before it ever became a problem. First thing on the End of the World agenda? Get the boy toys their magic gun back. Castiel and Gabriel had managed to locate, not the Colt itself, but the man who now had it: a Crossroads Demon by the name of Crowley. And not just any Demon but the sodding King of the Crossroads himself. It should prove to be interesting. That was why, as all men know in this kingdom by the sea, Castiel and I were stalking him and watching him suck face with a greedy fat businessman under a bridge. I had to give him one thing, though. Crowley was the most distinguished Demon I'd yet to see. He had the air of a pureblood about him: dignified from his well kempt appearance to his obviously tailored suit. He made a nice picture. But maybe I'd been with Death for so long that older men just hit my radar first now. Hm. Awkward. Wonder what Dumbledore would have to say about that? Probably some rubbish about the power of love, the wanker. Cas and I crept after him quickly and followed him back to the manor he called home. Yes, that's right, a legitimate manor. I hadn't seen one of those since the Malfoys. Was everything about this man decadent? Crowley was no fool, though, and a damned cautious Demon if the anti-Angel sigils painting his home were anything to go by. Hm, well dressed and intelligent? How delightful. 

"I cannot go in. The sigils prevent me from entering." My friend's tone said that he was none too happy about it either. What was an Angel to do when the Demons got smarter? I was voting for a holy water Super Soaker. Actually, that was good. I was going to pass that little idea on to the boys when we got back. Salt grenades, Devil's Trap Stickers, oh my!   
The ridiculous images of anti-Demon warfare were shoved to the back of my mind until later. There would plenty of time for hunter amusements later. The sooner we got this gun, the sooner we could move on to tracking down Lucifer.

"I'll go. The Demons won't be use to a Wizard's magic. They won't know what to look for. It'll be easy peesy. The boys on their way?" 

"Yes. They should be here any moment."

"Brilliant." 

Theoretically, I would be able to sneak in undetected. A quick Muffiliato, anti-scent charm and a wave of my hand to activate the Invisibility Cloak I'd absorbed into my aura and I was creeping past the fence undisturbed. The complex was grand, a dead giveaway to Crowley's wealth. He was enterprising, that was for sure. He had likely used the long years he'd been above to suck funds from those he made deals with. It was clever, I'd give him that. The house was dark, soundless save for the few guards patrolling the outside and one pair on the downstairs. They were simple to avoid.

Now, If I were a magic, creature killing gun, where would I be? It was a toss up between the office and the bedroom. Given Lucifer's recent amorous attempts at me, the idea of being in anyone else's bedroom at the moment gave me the creeps. Office it was. Unfortunately, the room was not unoccupied. Fate, you shameless hussy. 

"Normally, visitors ring the doorbell when they arrive." Crowley's easy British purr came from behind at the same moment that he slid the door closed. Hiding behind the open door? How very Friday the Thirteenth, "Oh, don't worry, darling. We've got loads to talk about. No doubt you're here for the Colt. Drink?" He crossed by me to the liquor cabinet against the back wall, pouring out two healthy snifters of Glencraig. It was easy to forget how much I had missed just hearing another Brit speak. I'd been all over the universes but Death had always been rather careful to keep me away from English soil in any timeline. He hadn't wanted me to start longing for the good old days, or some rubbish like that. My days had been plenty better since I'd left Britain in the dust, thank you very much. 

"Enterprising and intelligent. I knew you would be the first moment I saw you, Crowley." 

He offered me the seat in front of his desk as if we were colleagues, passing me the glass jovially. Business associates in the Apocalypse. Very quaint. I dispelled the charms with a wave, allowing my full form to come into view and his careful examination of me. 

"You are much more polite than those morons you've taken up arms with. Then again, that is the interesting thing, isn't it? Death opposing the Apocalypse. Working with hunters to take down the Devil himself. It's like a bloody television show, mate." He snorted, drinking from his Craig like a man with ambrosia. My smile was a humorless one. 

"An unavoidable camaraderie, I assure you. Death and I have no desire to be tethered to Lucifer in his bid for world domination and we will do whatever it takes to make certain that he goes right back to Hell where he belongs. That is what has brought me here to you tonight. For the Colt. We both acknowledge that the Winchesters are the poster boys for bad decision making but it is in my best interests, and yours as well, to...even up the playing field, so to speak. I intend to see to it that they succeed, whether it's with all of their pieces intact or not. Death will not be ruled by some feathered ponce throwing a temper tantrum because the new baby came along and stole the spotlight." My voice was heavy with the disdain I felt for Lucifer. Really, they were all just being big babies. God, the Archangels, Lucifer, and the Winchesters too. If they could have just sat down and worked out their familial spats, this whole business could have been avoided.

“I agree, Master of Death-”

“Please, Crowley. If we are to be allies then you may called me Harry. Titles can be such a bore.”

“Harry, then. I have no intention of being Lucifer's servant. His cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, my kind are next. You can imagine what he must think of us if he views humans as just filthy bags of pus. So, how about you and your minions take this gun and go empty a clip into old Lucy-boy's face, eh?” He hissed and passed the Colt across the desk to me, a dark glower spread across his brow. 

My face twisted into a malicious smirk and I knocked back my glass of Craig with pleasure. At last, something was going our way. I'd expected to come and have to kill Crowley and steal the Colt from his bloody corpse. This was an unexpected boon and I wasn't going to question Fate when she extended a helping hand.

“That I can do.”

“Oh and make sure those morons don't tread their filthy boots on my carpet. You do not know how expensive that was.” Merlin forbid his carpet get trampled! If one bit of dirt sullies its virgin exterior, the end of the world we be nigh! We may as well break dance with the Archangels and share tapioca with Lucifer. I snorted. How did we always get stuck with the odd ones?

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

I knew the moment that I cast my eyes around that this was nothing but a dream. For starters, we had just been in some off-the-highway skeazy motel when my eyes closed, not my bedroom back at the Library, and there certainly had not been the sweet feel of a warm body next to mine. My head was pillowed on a very familiar chest, my hand splayed out on his stomach. Where a finely cut black suit jacket would been was simply the white button up shirt beneath, black tie loose and cuffs undone.

"I'm dreaming." I whispered, leaning in to inhale the scent that was uniquely Death. Like a crisp winter morning. He chuckled, a rumbling purr echoing from deep down. 

“Of course. But you know that between the two of us consciousness is figurative. We are one in two, Master.” 

Of course. My fingers slid beneath his shirt, tracing nonsensical patterns on the skin there. Eyes closed and for a moment, all I wanted to do was bask in the feel of him there. Next to me again, right where he belonged. It felt so nice to have him with me again that a small groan crawled its way from my throat. All of the anxiety, the tenseness and stress of the last two months seemed to lift away. How could I worry about what Lucifer was up to when I had Death lying so comfortably at my side? 

“I missed you. So much.” 

Death looked down at me, his smile wide and full of affection. Love. It moved around us, through us, like fog on a midnight bay. Like starlight on a crystal clear pool. My beloved had always reminded me of a pool on a clear, windless night. Still, steady, unmoving. Glassy, as if, were the water only large enough, it would reflect the sky and the boundaries between heaven and earth would become just a distant memory. Death pulled me up to meet his lips and suddenly an inferno began to rise inside my belly. Flames licked at my insides as surely as the one inspiring them licked at my lips. Oh, yes. I had missed this too. This intimacy. I had shared my bed with Death for over twelve thousand years and to abruptly be alone was rather a shock to my libido, no mention of how I was handling it emotionally. In no time at all, I was ready. Clothes were shed like a second skin. With the blurred, nearly nonexistent transition that could only be found in the realm of dreaming, bare skin was against bare skin at last. Fingers traced every dip and curve, committing every inch to memory. Temperatures spiked and the air felt heavy to breathe as if, all of the sudden, there weren't enough of it to go around. Hands on thighs tightened drawing a quick, sensual gasp from open lips. My eyes rose to meet loving black only to not find my lover but Lucifer's smoldering gaze staring down at me. His hands stroking my body, inflaming my every nerve ending. Pleasure and desire were washed away, doused immediately in the icy chill of terror. The grip that was so sure and delicious on my skin only moments ago turned brutal and domineering. 

“Harry Potter...”

I jerked violently awake with an ear piercing scream. 

A/N: Ugh. Shorter than I expected but I had to cut it down a bit because my writing was starting to suck lol. That's when I know it's time to stop for the night. ;) Next chapter: a glimpse of Death and the crap hits the fan for our favorite Master of Death!


	8. At The End Of All Things

A/N: Woot! It's getting real! :P Figuratively, of course lol. 

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter AND Supernatural! Totally kidding. If only. Sigh.

Chapter Seven...At The End Of All Things

The thing about abruptly screaming out loud in a house full of hunters was that they always assumed the worst. They burst in the room, guns blazing, door hanging off of its hinges, to find me, not being torn apart by Hellhounds or some other such nonsense, but sitting up board-straight in bed trying to clear the fog from my newly established reality. A bit of shouting ensues when all everyone really wants to do is go back to sleep. Just take it from me: Bad idea. Especially when you had a mother hen Reaper as your guard.

"Tessa, please. It was just a dream. Just a nightmare." I begged her to leave off, not press for details. The last thing I wanted to do in the world was admit to a room full of hunters, angels and my lover's underling that I'd just had a dirty dream of the devil. A terrifying, sickening dream but a night terror nonetheless. I still felt icky about the entire thing. Goosebumps were marching down my arms to the tune of the Devil's fiddle and my stomach had flipped itself inside out, for sure.

"Are you certain it was just a nightmare?" Tessa whispered for my ears alone, waving the disgruntled Winchesters out of the room irritably. Brie stayed pointedly behind though Castiel politely took his leave to give us some illusion of privacy. In a house of seven, privacy was a hard thing to come by.

"I'm certain. There was no sense of the supernatural or anything intrusive. Just a regular nightmare, honest." I tried to brush off her worry with an unruffled front but she didn't seem to fall for the weak facade. Damn. She brushed a hand over my head, flattening my long hair down affectionately and received a shaky half-smile for her efforts, "I'll be okay, Tessa." I had to be. It was just a silly dream, no matter how much I wanted to run to Death for comfort. I wasn't going to be the one to distract him with ridiculous things while he was out there trying his best to save his family. I wasn't going to be that selfish. Besides, that was the reason why Death detested humanity. Because they went crying to the adults, whichever higher power they felt could serve them best, whenever the slightest thing went wrong. I wasn't going to run to him for something so trivial. I didn't want to be like those people he looked down on. Those other humans. I didn't want to disappoint him. 

"'Course you will! Because I'm gonna sit here and guard your body from all of your unholy ills!" Gabriel interjected joyfully and bounce don my bed with a grin, "Hey did you know that I was in the Wizard of Oz movie? Well, sort of. I kind of caused a death on the scene but they caught it on camera and had no idea until the movie had been released! It was great! Talk about immortalizing myself!" As he began to chatter away about his mischievous exploits, I barely noticed my guardian disappear from the room, frowning.

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

The Reaper faded out of her charge's room but nothing featured on her mind than the Master of her Master. She was worried about Harry. This sudden and abrupt separation after having no one but Death for twelve thousand years? Tessa wasn't sure the idea had been wise. Now she was going to have to share those sentiments with her Master himself. How did one go about telling Death that he had made a bad decision? When she found the Horseman, he was sitting in a pub in Wales gazing fondly at a little sheaf of parchment in his hand. Harry's list, no doubt. Those two lovebirds could be so silly at times. 

"Tessa." Death greeted her with a nod, gesturing for her to sit across from him at the table, "Please sit. I've ordered something Harry called a Full English and since he isn't here to share it with me, I suppose you will have to do in his stead. What do you have to report to me?" 

His voice sounded so genuine and soft when his lover's name passed through his lips that she almost smiled. Ah, to be so in love. It must be nice. Unfortunately, there weren't many Reapers interested in long term relationships. It was all about the job, not even taking into account that they were largely old, crotchety men. When one was immortal, long term relationships were a little hard to come by in comparison. Her longest love affair had lasted a scant two hundred years. It was practically over as soon as it started. 

"I...I'm worried about Harry, Master." She whispered, only to shrink down in her chair when his dark eyes flicked up from the list to pierce her own, suddenly intense and heavy.

"Go on." 

"He barely sleeps and he feels lonely. He misses you something terribly. Just a few moments ago, he had a night terror so bad, he woke up the whole house screaming. Also, there was an incident." This was the part she was dreading having to tell him. Death would be most displeased that Harry had ordered her away to help the Winchesters and left her charge alone in hostile territory. He wouldn't be wrong to be angry, especially with what had transpired during that time, "Sam and Dean Winchester were called to assist a fellow hunter in a town overrun with demons. It turns out that it was your brother War. Lucifer had bound him and sent him to do his bidding. While they were looking for War, Harry came across Lucifer. It seemed that he had been waiting for him to appear in the town. Lucifer's overtures to him were...definitely not platonic. He fancies Harry. I believe that may be what inspired his nightmare tonight. The Master seems pretty distraught by it." There it was then. The truth was out. Well, at least the part about the Devil, though I had no delusions that Death didn't know exactly where I had been during that dreaded conversation. He was near omniscient, after all. 

"I see." The meal came at last via a quiet, shy young waiter who was quick to scamper off and leave us to ourselves. Croissants, potato cakes, bacon, eggs, sausages, mushrooms, and baked beans completed with orange juice and black coffee spread out before us like some feast of cholesterol-seeking kings. Death passed me a spare plate and silverware set that had been ignored at the place setting next to him. He said nothing more than that firm, "I see" but his posture was tense and unhappy. A pissed off Death was a frightening Death. The last time he had been so upset, an unfortunate consequence of one of the sole arguments he and Harry had ever had, a planet had exploded. Not a single bacterium left. It had taken us months to get all of the souls collected and personally, she didn't care to Reap souls from space. It was always really awkward and uncomfortable to move in a vacuum. 

Silently, he began serving out the food, filling her plate with half of everything save the bacon, sausage and eggs. She really did smile then. If Death remembered that she was a vegetarian, he couldn't be that mad, right? Tessa cringed at the idea of eating anything that had once been alive. It just seemed strange. Human, animal, in her mind's eye, it was all flesh, all the same. Humans were nothing more than animals, just a little further down the evolutionary scale, and some certainly didn't act like it. Dean's womanizing made him look a lot like a pig, in her opinion. 

"The Winchesters and Harry are on their way to Carthage to face off against Lucifer. You must not allow Harry to go there. Lucifer plans to use him to control me to his own whims. Keep him far away from Carthage, Tessa, and I'll forget your little lapse in judgment from Colorado. I do not know to what end that blasted Angel is playing this game with my Master but it will not be borne. Do you understand me?" His demands were spoken with an icy, unyielding tone but his ire was reserved for the petulant angelic upstart, not her. 

The Reaper nodded in compliance and the two tucked into their meal in thoughtful, pensive quiet.

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= 

Our motley crew were piddling around Bobby's house on, what Castiel called, our last night on earth. Jo and Ellen were playing some hilarious drinking game against the Angels while Bobby, Sam and Dean did last minute research and weapons preparation. Despite the trip to face our adversary looming on the horizon, everyone was in rather high spirits. Ellen barked out a laugh from the table as Gabriel materialized a radio from nowhere and cranked up the classic rock beats. The ex-Trickster bowed to the youngest huntress before scooping her up into a rousing sort of faux swing dance. Yes, the air was light and the mood was good. Everyone appeared to be peachy keen. Everyone except me. Because despite the uplifted feel of the company, there was a heaviness, a weight that only I could realize. I was Death's Master and I knew when a mortal's end drew near. 

Ellen and Jo were going to die. Soon. 

I didn't know how or when but it would be soon. Given our upcoming mission, the scenario wasn't hard to figure out. The mother-daughter dynamic duo would not be making it back from this mission. This made no sense. Completely illogical really. I had been around death for twelve thousand years plus and yet...My throat tightened and the hot sting of tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. How long had it been since I had cried last? Many centuries, for sure. Death had kept me sheltered and nestled snug and comfortably in the fortress of his arms. Where once in my life, there had been nothing but hardship, with him I had always been protected from every hurt he could spare me. Now, I was faced with a decision. Did I let the two heroines go on the mission unknowingly walking to their deaths or did I save the ones that had become good friends and companions to me? The part I hated the most was that it was no decision at all. All of the power over souls and resurrection and none of it mattered.

The Natural Order had to be preserved. 

How could I rob someone else of their life because I wanted two others to live? It was selfish, cruel, unfeeling. And Death would haunt their footsteps regardless. Ellen and Jo would die and there was nothing I could do about because I knew better than to even try. Before joining Team Free Will, I would have never questioned the fact that they had to die. People died every day. It was what my life was based around. But now? Now I knew them, talked with them, fought with them. Jo insisted on playing with my hair before bed and Ellen's face had crumbled just ever so slightly when she learned that I had only ever seen my mother as a ghost. They were all each other had in the world. 

I wanted them to live. 

Smoke from the hash browns I was standing over the stove cooking rose up in my face and I realized that they had been left to burn by my inattention. Fantastic. Swearing colorfully, the supper was cast into the sink, drawing Castiel's attention to my plight. Let the bloody chips rot there for all I cared. My silent exit went largely unnoticed and the outside air greeted me like an old friend. There was a warm wind tonight. The sky above was clear and the one could almost count every star in the heavens if they tried. It reminded me of this place Death and I had gone many years ago. The Glittering Caverns. We could look up and see the minerals shining in the obsidian stone above and it gave the illusion that one were looking up at the night sky. It had been beautiful and hadn't taken too much prodding to encourage him to make love to me there. That was one of my favorite memories. That precious intimacy being shared between us as my eyes took in that illusory sight. The recollection of such a heartfelt time was the final pebble that broke the dam. Standing alone in the darkness, I began to sob.

I found myself on the edge of a precipice, walking a thin line between what was and what lay ahead.

I missed him. I would miss them.

Love had built me up. Love would break me down.

At some point, Sam and Dean would ask me why had I let them die? Why wouldn't I bring them back? What was the right answer? The Natural Order said no? Death was the greatest love of my world. Life, that was the real tragedy. Ellen and Jo, they would go to Heaven and finally see their husband and father again. It was just like Dumbledore had once said.   
“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living.” Ellen and Jo were going to a better place. So why couldn't I stop crying? I couldn't even go now either. Death had asked me not to, sending the request via a scolded, contrite Tessa. Sure, I could refuse, defy him. I was his Master, not the other way around, but I wouldn't. Death was omniscient, not me, but being left behind on such an important venture really pricked and stung. 

“Harry? Are you well?” Castiel's voice filtered in through my distress, a comforting hand coming to rest on my back, “What is hurting you?” 

What could I tell him? That two of our party weren't going to make it back through those doors? That being who I was had brought me into direct conflict with the humanity that Death was trying to instill back inside me? For a split second, just a keen, penetrating moment of time, I hated Death. Things had been going so well! I had finally gotten to the point where I was okay with being the cause of people's ends. It had finally stopped tearing me up inside and he had to go and drag my arse back in. Now all I seemed to do was hurt. The moment passed quickly, thankfully, and the anger was gone before its sting would truly take effect. If I told him the truth, he would, by nature, be honest with Sam and Dean. He wouldn't be able to help himself. So I told Castiel the only thing that I could.

“Duty, Cas. Duty.”


	9. The Road To Hell

A/N: Woot! Our views? We're over 9,000!!! ;) Thanks ladies and gents and please don't forget to review! 

Disclaimer: Nada.

Chapter Eight...The Road To Hell

If a great wave shall fall, It'd fall upon us all And between the sand and stone, Could you make it on your own? 

Watching the boys leave was a bitter sweet occasion. The hardest part by far, however, was letting Ellen and Jo walk away. Actually forcing my arms to release them to their fates from the tight hug I had thrown around them took a herculean effort. Sam and Dean looked at me strangely for it and no doubt they would blame me for keeping the impending deaths a secret later but for now, it was a secret that weighed most heavily on my heart. The Impala sped away followed closely by Ellen's four-door hatch back and Bobby and I watched them pull away for what would be the last time. I fought down the depression that threatened to overtake me completely, looking to my sole companion when he cleared his throat to get my attention.

"Well... let's see if we can't figure out a little more about these Horsemen and their new master. Maybe we'll come across something new." His gruff voice said calmly. If it was just a little more grave than usual, neither of us cared to comment on it. 

His words made me sneer with righteous anger. Death had only one master and it sure as bloody hell wasn't Lucifer and no man claimed me except the one I had claimed for myself. If that pompous Angel had to learn that the hard way then so be it. However, I also acknowledged the fact that we had been over every tome, scroll and obscure scribble and scrawl available and still had found squat. So Bobby could research all he wanted but I was going to take one for the team and do something that would benefit us all in the long run. I looked over at the wheelchair bound man with a vaguely sinister eye.

"If there's anything in the house that you don't want me to see, I'd advise you to gather it up now."

All at once, Bobby realized that he may have made a mistake being left behind with me.

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

The house was a whirl wind of activity. Brooms were sweeping floors on their own and grimy rags and dusters were zooming through the air. I'd just finished the dishes and now had my eyes set on the bed linens upstairs and on exterminating a particularly stubborn opossum in the attic. Bobby's wide eyes followed the blatant displays of magic as if it were the football in a rather exciting game on the telly. Only brief conversation had been made in the hours since the rest of our crew had gone but the silence hadn't been an uncomfortable one. Rather it had been filled instead with the buzz of activity and the need to keep busy instead of dwelling on things. Once again, I had sent Tessa with my friends for their protection. She had protested of course but I had told her on no uncertain terms that it was not a suggestion, it was an order and I would handle Death of he made a fuss. She had relinquished, albeit unhappily. Looking around, I couldn't help but grin. The place looked transformed! I had transfigured some discarded wood scraps into some low, sturdy book shelves for all of the lore books and cabinets for the various items that the job demanded here and there. What had once been a cramped, cluttered heap was now a spacious HOME. Definitely better suited for his limited mobility than it had been before. Unfortunately, transfiguring Bobby a lift was way out of the scope of my abilities so the upstairs remained inaccessible to him still. However, there was a spare room that looked almost like an over sized pantry down the hall from the living room so I had brought his bed, dresser and other things downstairs and made it into a sort of alternative option. It was a wee bit awkwardly sized and the dresser barely fit but at least he wouldn't be sleeping on a hard couch anymore. There was no way he could convince me that was okay for him at his age. I was just reaching for a stray book that had been left out by the radio when an odd feeling overcame me. It began slowly, just a tickle, light really but noticeable enough that my hand paused in mid-air. I frowned. It was odd, almost like a tug or a particularly insistent whisper. The tug became suddenly an iron grip around my waist and a glowing circle of sigils began to materialize around me on the wooden floor.

"Bobby..." I called out for him uncertainly, fear beginning to bubble up within me. What was this magic? The sigils were Enochian but none that I recognized right off hand. The grizzled hunter wheeled into the room, his wheels squeaking slightly, at the same instant that the glow flared. Ghostly white chains burst from the ground, wrapping around both of my wrists and waist in a vice, barely wisps of smoke but as solid as steel. They jerked tightly, forcing me to the ground with a crash and sending pain radiating up my thigh when I landed awkwardly. The alarm and fear became outright terror. I screamed, "Bobby!", but it was too late. In a flash of light as blinding as the sun, the chains pulled me through the seal. 

I arose in darkness. After the glare of the circle, I was blind in such lightlessness, but certain clues did not allude me. I was outside. There was a fell, cool wind against my arms and the sound of that breeze moving, shifting through trees and tall grasses. The vague smell of animals and manure permeated the air. I was near a farm, perhaps. Somewhere open and far from the city. The smell of recent death was all around. Ever so slowly, the details of my surroundings began to make themselves known. Instead of the hard wood of Bobby's living room floor, the chains now bound me on my knees to the soft soil of freshly turned earth. Freshly turned earth filled to bursting with corpses. A mass grave. I was sitting on a sodding mass grave! Reflexively, my body flinched away, only for my bonds to tighten, more slipping in from the circle still shimmering around me to wrap around my torso completely. I couldn't move even if I tried. There was a dense wood all around the clearing where the circle had deposited me and through the trees, the pale orbs of Reapers looked out on the scene. That was when my eyes caught Tessa, Sam and Dean hiding in the brush, Gabriel and Cas at their back, ready to teleport out at a moments notice. Closer to me even still was the man who had given us such grief. The inspiration for my most recent bought of nightmares and other such assorted pleasantness. Lucifer's cerulean eyes smirked down at me as he stood over my bound and trapped form.

“Well helllloooooo, Death. Or should I say, Master of Death?” His witty repartee got him only a scowl in return. Bloody hell, I couldn't even manage a spell in these blasted shackles! They were acting as a block, keeping the magic from being able to travel past them through the correct channels to my hands to get the spell out. A rather ingenious bit of work, I hated to admit. All the while, Lucifer kept on talking. The man clearly loved the sound of his own voice so who was I to come between them? 

“You know, I really wasn't sure which of you would show. Death, the servant and lover, or his Master, both his most prized possession and possessor. But I had a feeling it would be you, Harry, and I have to say, you don't disappoint. After all, you were always meant to end up by my side in some capacity and true to form, you came when I called.” He purred, reaching out a hand to run a single, solitary finger slowly down my face. The digit traveled ever lower, tracing my jaw and then down the contours of my throat to stop at last at my collarbone. Called? This was a summoning. There wasn't exactly a choice in the matter but try to tell that to the megalomaniac in desperate need of a cold shower or twelve. 

“You won't succeed, you know.” I spat, giving my steadiest and most piercing stare. It was just shy of a glare but hid the fright that was simmering beneath my careful facade, “You may have bound me but you can't force me to submit to your demands.”

“Oh? And why is that? Why would it have worked with Death but not with you?” He sounded genuinely curious by the question, leaning closer to better absorb my response.

“Because unlike Death, I'm still human. That whole free will thing your Daddy Dearest programmed us lower beings with and all.” I would have capped it off with a cocky smirk if I wasn't so afraid inside in truth. 

“Hmm. You do have a good point, darling, but I believe that you'll find that I can be very convincing and I've been waiting some time to get you alone to myself. I want to find out just what makes you tick, Little Death. You could, however, make this all very simple and just go ahead and agree to work with me. I'll even make you my Consort, Harry. Conquer the world with me and I'll give it to you.” That same desire that had featured in our last meeting, and again in my dream, made itself known in his borrowed blue orbs. Lucifer's hand slipped into my near waist-length hair, gripping it as one would do a lover to gaze deeply into their eyes. Having him up close, though, gave me the opportunity to observe the Lord of Hell as he was. The Devil's vessel was...tearing. Degrading little by little. Little sores had opened up along the right side of his face, appearing raw and painful. There must have been a wince in my expression because Lucifer caught on to my exact thoughts quickly, “Oh don't worry. Nick is still in good enough condition to give you the time of your long, long life." A saucy, unapologetic smirk accompanied the bold statement.

"Yeeeaaaahhhh. That's not going to happen. Not if i have anything to say about it."

"Ah, but you see that's the thing, Harry. You don't have a say. Not unless it's you saying, 'Yes, I'd be more than happy to help you start Armageddon.' You will cooperate, my dear. Sooner or later. While we're not exactly on a time limit, well...I think it's time to get this show on the road. Don't you agree, Sam?” It had been a ploy. A show to draw the true vessel out of hiding and into the open. It worked. I had only a moment to register Sam's cry of fury before something hard slammed into the back of my head. My body pitched forward and all I knew was the darkness of unconsciousness. 

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

Waking was slow, laborious. My head was aching and when I opened my eyes and tried to make sense of the world, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Or maybe it was blurred? Heaviness weighed down my subconscious, my thoughts gathering with much difficulty. Where was I? What was wrong with me? Had I been drugged? Okay, I thought with a deep breath, what was the last thing that had happened? There was Bobby's shocked and frightened face in my memories, a tugging sensation. Ghostly chains and...Lucifer. Sam bursting from the cover of shadows and then nothing. Now, I found myself in a dark, dingy motel. My figure had been tucked in beneath a navy blue comforter, hair pulled out of the way to the side. It was quiet. Eerily so. 

“You've been given a massive dose of Cardolan Spore. It's what we use to control the more rabid Hellhounds. Dizzying, isn't it?” Lucifer's voice wafted over from where I could mae out his silhouette against the dim sunshine of the window. 

So I had been drugged. What a rat bastard.


	10. The Twelfth Hour

A/N: 13,000 views?! Woah! You guys are blowing me out of the water here! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and gave me such glowing encouragements! This chapter is for all for all of you!

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter Nine...The Twelfth Hour

And maybe, I'll find out The way to make it back someday, To watch you, to guide you Through the darkest of your days...

Lucifer turned around to face me and his stare at me was filled with piercing, penetrating intent. It was a gaze that felt invasive, violating me in ways I couldn't even begin to understand in my current foggy state. I shifted beneath the duvet, uncomfortable beneath his inspection, only to find silver bands tight around both of my wrists. The same Enochian sigils that had made up the binding circle from the night before were carved into the shiny surface. The discomfort of having my magic blocked off, trapped inside my body was clear when I at last noticed the shackles. Like a cut that you don't feel the pain from until you lay eyes on it. Damn. At least I wasn't chained down. Yeah, great. 

"Do you plan to torture me, then?" Kudos to me for my voice not shaking. In some ways, Lucifer was far more of a danger to me than any Dark Lord ever could have been. Voldemort had never fancied me, after all, and a slighted Archangel was an unpredictable Archangel. This situation had the potential to get bad very quickly and, judging by my previous track record, Fate loved to see me suffer, the bint. 

"Do you want me to torture you?" His voice carried over his amusement at the stony, fierce expression I presented him with. I shook my head to the negative, "Good. Because I have much more pleasant plans in mind for you, my Little Death." I had the urge to tell him that I wasn't his anything but there was no reason to prod a sleeping lion. Besides, something told me that the Devil's plans were ones that wouldn't bode well for me at the end of the day. Lucifer didn't turn back to resume his observation of the scenery liked I had hoped he would, instead slowly walking toward my prone figure, "You could be great, you know. With me. We could rule this world, right all of the wrongs the humans have done to you. No one would ever hurt another child, never ignore another son or daughter in need, ever again. We could make it a reality, Harry. Make a Heaven for ourselves here. Cut out our own slice of the pie." 

Oh please. Nothing would come from Lucifer's rule except destruction. Only a ruined world would precede him. 

"No one's Heaven can come from bringing Hell to Earth and you know that. I won't help you bring ruination upon us just to show up God."

His face looked down on me in false sympathy as if I had just proven to be immeasurably stupid and it saddened him. His snort of derision cut through the air.

"You make us all sound so trivial, Harry. But no matter. You WILL help me whether you want to or not and believe me. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging to do what I wish." He purred, a sadistic smile taking up his pock marked face. He stopped at the very end of the bed and retrieved a small glass bottled from his pocket. A clear fluid lay inside reminding me strongly of a certain potion professor I use to know. Veritaserum? Surely not? How would he even manage to come across such a thing? 

"Do you know what this is, Little Death?" Clearly not. Lucky guess said he was about to tell me though, "This is the saliva of a Succubus."

"Ugh. And what does the Succubus spit do?" Nothing good, no doubt. What did I know about Succubi? Admittedly, not much. Some sort of creature that feeds on human energy, if I remembered correctly. 

Lucifer's grin broadened and he held the vial up to the light so the tiny bit of light filtering in caught the glass and gleamed with a sinister shine, "To me? Nothing. To you? Well, let's just say that this stuff will make you...see things my way. Take you to whole new heights, if you will." More drugs? With my luck there would be some sort of adverse reaction. I suppose it was a good thing that I couldn't die. The fact wouldn't make it hurt any less. My stomach clenched and an icy cold stole over me when my enemy unstoppered the small bottle and smeared some of the colorless fluid on his own lips. Oh not good. So not good. Lucifer started at the bottom of bed and slowly began to crawl up towards me. Definitely not good. 

He moved panther-like, almost a roll. Graceful, serpentine. This was the devil who had taken snake-form and seduced Eve to seeing his way, the same who had been the most beautiful in Heaven before his fall. Jerking away, I crab crawled backwards, trying to get as far back from his as I could. My heart was in my throat, pounding away like a hammer. My blood began to race within my veins, a liquid train captured within me. A sick feeling was settling inside my belly at the realization of what was about to occur. How could I have not seen this coming? Where was Death? My lover's name escaped my lips in a breathless whisper of terror. A vice-like grip encircled my ankle and jerked me down from the fetal position that I had crunched myself into, pulling me prone once more. That was when my eyes found the ceiling and for a moment, all I could do was stare in awe. Every inch of the room's ceiling was covered in more Enochian but these were at least partially recognizable. Sigils for obscuring, warding and hiding. It was a vast and complex leviathan of spell work. We were hidden from Death's sight, from everyone's sight, and with my magic bound, there was no chance of escaping unless I could either get outside the ward work or get these blasted cuffs off. With Lucifer standing in the way, my chances were looking bleak. 

My eyesight tilted and blurred, the Spore still strong in my system. Before I knew what had happened, Lucifer was upon me, his mouth on mine. A hand was on my jaw, prying my mouth open painfully, allowing the saliva to filter in. His tongue slipped in along with it and I began to push and beat at his arms around me fruitlessly, screaming out in my mind along the channel connecting my beloved and I. If Death would hear it through the warding, I didn't know but I had to try something. It was far too late though. The moment the saliva began to work its wicked magic, I knew it immediately. My body tensed, arms stilled their assault on my attacker. Lucifer smirked against my mouth but the anger that should have been there wouldn't come. I felt...hot. The string of a bow wound too tightly. Just another tug and it would snap. I was standing on the edge of a platform, teetering in the wind. There was a gasp, just a breath filled with the endless blue of eyes boring down into mine. The calm before the plunge. I fell. 

Heat surged up within me, overtaking me. Every nerve ending lit up like a match and my brain swelled. Flesh felt suddenly too small to fit me, a feeling of immense discomfort before the pleasure hit and I remembered exactly what it was that Remus had taught us all of those centuries ago. Succubi. Creatures that fed on energy. Sexual energy. A cry of need, almost pain, burst out of my chest and then arms were around me. Teeth found my throat, marking and demanding more. Nothing seemed to make any sense. Thoughts were disjointed and time didn't flow correctly. I could only focus on pieces. A hand splayed across my bare belly, my shirt being pulled up over my head. Everything was scrambled, events mixed up and unclear. I suppose it was the single kindness Lucifer had offered me because when hands slide down my thighs, taking the last vestiges of my dignity with them, I wasn't fully aware of what was occurring. All I knew was the all encompassing pleasure pulsing throughout my body with every heartbeat. Impossibly soft hands spread my legs wide, stroking and teasing. There was a single instant of panic when I recalled that it had been months since Death had lain with me last and that my body wasn't ready but, like every other, the thought was gone on the wave of drugged euphoria before it could really be given life. 

Pain shot through me as he moved inside my body, violating and desecrating every inch of me. Claiming for himself what was not his to lay claim to. I was crying out, begging, though for what my addled mind couldn't decipher. It didn't seem to ever end. The agony began to fade only for the pain of never ending want to take its place. Need. Want. Fear. Pain. Lust. Terror. Desire. All of these and more were waging war within my heart. The scariest part of all was the knowledge that no one would be coming for me. No one would save me if I couldn't find a way to save myself. I would be trapped here with him until I gave in or found a way. The shackles on my wrists had never felt so heavy. The feel of hot, sticky fluid filled my body and at last, it was over. Lucifer was chuckling above me and with a single, mocking kiss to the scar on my forehead, darkness descended over my consciousness. 

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

When I awoke for the second time, it was night outside. I could see the stars through the window. My brain was blessedly free of the influence of the Succubus saliva and only slightly clearer from the wearing off of the Spore. The first thought that crossed my mind was how lovely the stars were. The sight of them reminded me once more of my dear Death, of his endlessness and how joyful he made me feel inside. How being his Master was a gift, not because of the control it gave me, but because it allowed me to be in his life. My memories came filtering in one by one and all at once, the realization of what that sticky feeling between my thighs was came to me. Knowledge could be a terrible burden. It took all of the little strength I possessed to heave myself over the side of the bed to vomit, lest I throw up on myself. 

"Well, I didn't think I was that bad. I'm almost offended, Harry." Lucifer said from somewhere to my left jokingly. I did not not react, nor did I glance his way. My mind was still trying to process the muddled mess of my memories from hours ago. I had slept with Lucifer, with the enemy. Even under duress, it didn't change the fact that we had sex. I had been unfaithful to Death, to the man who had loved me with everything he was for twelve hundred years. The one who had delivered me from a life of misery and betrayal. I wanted to scream, cry, rage at everything. Throw whatever I could get my hands on first. I wanted to kill. The bed around where I lay began to brown and decay, once white sheets now appearing decades old, but the magic dampening cuffs on my arms kept any more of that death magic from leaking through. Nothing that would do me any good right now. Perhaps this was shock. Mentally and emotionally, I felt frozen. Nothing seemed to come through properly. Stunned.

"You know, you could always give in. Help me wage my Apocalypse and you can see Death again. You won't have to go through all of this. You know that I'm telling you the truth. I'm an Angel, after all, not some disgusting demon. I can't lie."

Couldn't he just shut up? I was so bloody tired...My entire body hurt, the aches and pain of abuse. There was a stinging in my back and when I put a hand to it, I found nail tracks trailing down my skin. The pain between my legs was blinding. A whimper must have bled out from between my swollen lips because hands suddenly lifted me up, placing my battered body in his lap. Lucifer lifted my chin up so he could look down into my exhausted emerald eyes. His face wore an expression of false sympathy and sincerity. Couldn't lie my arse. He lied with his mannerisms, his expressions.

"This will happen again and again until you give me what I want, Little Death. Certainly, your uncooperative attitude is a stall in my plans but either way I have you here with me, I have what I want. Either way, Harry, I've won."

I was tucked back beneath the covers like a child. All I could do was curl up and cry.


	11. When All Seems Lost

A/N: Alright, so I know some of you have questions about why Death is acting the way he is, why he didn't go to Harry back at Bobby's, and some of that will be clarified in this chapter because we're going to see Death in this chapter and his conversation with Dean in the pizzeria from the episode “Two Minutes To Midnight”.

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter Ten...When All Seems Lost

We didn't move for some time. Lucifer was constantly busying himself with making some sort of changes to the cuffs on my wrists. He had wasted no time in branding my ribs with Enochian but when one was trying to hide from Death, serious mojo had to be involved. I missed using my magic already. If only for the benefit of a simple cleaning charm for myself. My skin crawled with the remembered feel of his hands on me and fighting the urge to be sick again took an insurmountable effort. Even now as he labored over the changes to the cuffs, each time his fingers brushed my flesh, my stomach rolled in response. I never could catch a break, could I? Joy was never a lasting thing. It was fleeting like flowers in the spring or a first kiss. Over before it really began. All too soon did despair and terror tread on its heels, vultures to a carcass left in the sun. My captor made a sound of pleasure in the back of his throat, clapping his hands at, apparently, a job well done. I couldn't help but flinch a little at the sharp sound.

"Well! That went magnificently! I'll admit, I wasn't sure I'd be able to pull it off for a bit but we made it work. I think a celebratory bath is in order and then we can really get this party started! We have guests to go gather, Little Death. Why, it'll be a regular family reunion for you!" His tone was entirely too happy for anything good to come of this. 

He picked me up and my head lolled to the side, under the crushing weight of the Spore once again. My limp, unresponsive body was carried into the dingy bathroom and laid into the tub. I kept my eyes to the side, unmoving. I was to afraid to see what my body looked like, what Lucifer had done in his desecration of me. If Death could just see me now...Could he hear me crying out for him? Was there anything he could do? How worried he just be, not knowing where I was or what was happening with only the soundtrack of my investors screaming to let him know that I was even conscious. He had to be as scared as I was. Water began to fill the tub, stinging my every wound as the level rose. Lucifer slid in behind me and my body tensed into a tuning fork of all things frightening and uncomfortable. Humming, the man snagged one of the standard white wash towels that were the same no matter the hotel and began running the material over my dirty skin. I felt filthy and the more he touched me, the dirtier I became. Sometimes not being able to die was a curse. Nothing would please me more than to drown myself at that moment. It was awfully tempting not to try it anyways. Anything had to be better than being pressed flush against my naked enemy while he touched and caressed every inch of me as if I were some prized possession. His hand dipped down to scrub at the mess caked onto my thighs and I whimpered, nausea rising up. He smirked against the skin of my neck.

“It could all be over, Harry. You know what it is that you have to do. It only takes one word. One single word and it can all end.” 

His only answer back was a furious shake of my head, trying desperately not to sick up again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. 

Please, Death, please...

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

Dean walked into the pizzeria slowly, wincing at the scattering of corpses about the place. He stepped over a woman sprawled in the doorway tenderly. Walking over a corpse? That had to be bad luck somewhere. They had tracked the evidence of Death, hoping it would lead them to Harry and Lucifer but no such luck. Instead of leading them to the Master, he found the servant instead. A very very pissed off servant. To the casual observer, Death simply appeared to be enjoying a pizza pie, relaxed and unconcerned by the massive storm raging outside, but to the hunter, the sight told another story. There was tension in his posture, a deep frown in his brow that might come from a headache or immersion in some profound, Stygian train of thought. A piece of paper lay on the table at his side well worn and abused, as if it had been crumbled and then apologetically smoothed with care. He could recognize Harry's loopy handwriting running down the length of the strange parchment.

Petit Fours  
Full English   
Pizza with everything  
Donuts   
Pickle Chips  
Sashimi  
Bacon Dogs  
Calamari  
Tres Leche Cake  
Strawberry Mochi  
Edible Underwear

The sight of the oh-so-familiar handwriting made a lump rise in his throat. Harry...Just the latest person in a long line of friends and family that he had failed. 

“Dean. Please, come sit. Have a slice.” The deep, steady voice carved through the silence with the accuracy of a scalpel. The only choice he had was to comply, albeit with some reluctance, “You have some explaining to do, vessel.” 

Three guesses what that could be about and the first two don't count. May as well get the confessions over. Dragging his feet would only piss off the god-like, powerful entity sitting at the table. 

“Lucifer took Harry. We went to find the bastard and Harry stayed back at Bobby's place. We lost two of our own there in Carthage...Before we could get there in time, Lucifer attempted the ritual to summon you but he got Harry instead. He looked...happy about it, though. As if he were expecting it.”

Death's fork paused on its way to his mouth, a barely noticeable interruption of movement but one that was screamingly obvious to Dean's eyes. He resumed his eating as if the halt had never occurred. 

“I know. Tessa told me.” The Horseman seemed to sigh, putting down the fork in his hand and steepling his fingers to stare over them at the hunter, “I'll be honest with you, Dean. I want to blame you for this. I want to wipe your existence from the face of the planet and go on with my day. But that isn't going to get my Master back to me. Lucifer has him hidden from my sight so I must depend on you to find him. You find him for me and I won't make your entire pathetic planet a mass grave, do you understand?”

The man felt his palms begin to sweat nervously and nodded, more of a jerk of the head than any real communication, “Crystal clear.”

“Good.” 

Dean's lips pursed and he wiped his hands on his worn jeans in an uncharacteristic show of anxiety. An angry Death was an unpredictable Death and if he had been a lesser man, he would have never gathered the courage to question him further. He was Dean Freaking Winchester, though! He was born to be the thing monsters feared! After all, when one was named after a hunting rifle, what else could they be but a hunter of baddies everywhere. That's what he tried to tell himself as he picked up the line of questioning once more.

“Er, so how do we know if Harry is still...I mean, can the Master of Death, you know, die?” Well, he sounded like a preteen asking a girl to the school dance but the question was out there. 

His reward was a scathing, scornful glance.

“No, Harry cannot die, but save for that, he is just as human as you or that twit brother of yours. He can be hurt, he can bleed. He can be afraid. I sent him to you, Dean, because I feared for him. My Master is human and humans are social beings, in touch with one another. Without such connections, the mind begins to deteriorate and suffer for the loss. I'm embarrassed to admit that my company simply wasn't enough for him, though Harry may not even be aware of it himself. He began to lose himself, lose that humanity that makes him so precious, so unique. As his lover, I'm responsible for his well being and his happiness, even if that means letting him go. For a time. Lucifer,” The name was spat out as if it were something vile and repulsive, “Has been touching what does not belong to him. I can feel Harry calling out for me, screaming day and night but I cannot reach him. He's so afraid...” Death's voice trailed off for a moment like he was tuning in even then to the sound of his lover crying in his mind.

What would that be like? To have to listen to Lisa screaming for help constantly and not know how to help her? Not be able to find her? How horrible...How horrible for Harry. He must feel so utterly alone, so abandoned. Did he know that his lover was tirelessly searching for him? That they were? Or did he think that they had all just given up on him? And Lucifer, the way he had looked at Harry before. Oh, God. Dean's eyes widened and a sick feeling crept up his throat. 

“What do we do?” 

Death's black eyes flicked up to him and a shared determination passed between them.

“You find Lucifer. Then you leave him to me. I've played along with God long enough now. His little brats have been running around unleashed long enough and I'm done waiting for you moronic protozoa to get the job done. You think too small, Dean. Too inside the box. You insist on treating the Devil like a demon with your Colt and your childish salt lines. Lucifer is the father of their race but he is far from a demon. He's an Angel. So use that ring of holy Jerusalem oil like you would on any other Angel. Trap him, then call me. There will be no putting Lucifer into his Cage this time. Now, we do things my way.” 

Holy Jerusalem-? Oh. Oohhhhhhh. Now why didn't we ever think of that? 

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

Lucifer's intense work on my magic suppressing cuffs culminated into one result. The same obscuring ward that had been carved into the ceiling of the hotel, the mobile edition. I was out of luck. But maybe, just maybe...I was dropped onto the ground at the Angel's feet, crying out at the rough fall and the jostling of the still tender wounds. He'd taken me again this morning, slow and steady as if we were lovers but the pain lingered. Not just a pain of the body, but an agony of the spirit. The Spore coursed strongly within my veins and I was losing time little by little. One moment I was being carried, almost child-like, in Lucifer's arms and the next, I was on the ground looking up at him chanting to the tune of a ritual very similar to the one he had used to summon me. Demons stood all around, staring into space blankly. A blink. The scene had changed. The demons all lay dead and in their stead stood Famine. The Horseman was weak, shriveled, just a husk of himself. A whimper escaped my bruised lips and his grey eyes jerked to me. I recognized shock there and so too did our captor.

“Ah, yes. I'm afraid we've woken up my Little Death. How rude of me.” He hauled me up against him like a rag doll, tucking me in beneath one arm. All I could do to stop from falling was grip onto him tightly, the drug making it nigh impossible to stay standing unaided.

“You've bound my brother then?” Famine's voice was low and nothing more substantial than a croaking wisp of sound. He was very weak.

His words set a spark within my chest. A sudden, irrepressible flame that would not be subdued no matter how many drugs he pumped me with, no matter how much he beat me down. I would not give him Death, no matter what he did to me. I shoved away from Lucifer without warning, letting myself crumble to my knees painfully. 

“No! No, I won't...give him Death. Never!” My heartfelt rejection came out between desperate gasps, black seeping in at the edges of my vision as the drugs did their dirty work. My last image before I slipped away from consciousness was of Lucifer looking down at me, a next to furious expression on his face and of Famine, who held something akin to respect in his eyes as he watched me fight to protect the one I loved the most.


	12. In The Eyes Of The Dead

A/N: Well, I got my first less than favorable review for this story and, in response, I won't defend myself, my writing, or my story because so many people have loved it thus far that I refuse to allow one person's opinion drag that down. However, I will be explaining my reasoning for taking this story the way I have. 

irit: I read the vast expanse of Supernatural/HP fics long before I ever considered writing one and one thing is often the same: overpowered, MarySue!Harry. So in my fic, I wanted to make it a little more realistic. YES, Harry is the Master of Death but just because he collects the Hallows doesn't suddenly make him as powerful as Death. Death is millenia old, as old as God himself. There is no conceivable way that a human teenager is just magically, pun intended, going to be as powerful as him, Hallows or not. As for Harry being pathetic, well, that's a matter of opinion, I suppose, but again, he is still human. He did gain some powers from being Death's Master of course, but nothing that he is able to use when his magic is being sealed off by an enemy also millenia older than he. 

Now, I'm not usually the kind of writer who likes to address these things in chapter because I know my other readers want to get to the story rather than reading about such a trivial thing, but since you didn't log in, this was the only choice offered to me.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter Eleven...In The Eyes Of The Dead

For the first time since my capture, I had been left alone. I suppose Lucifer really had nothing to fear at this point. My magic was inaccessible to me and there was practically an entire pharmaceuticals company running through my blood stream. Escape was nigh impossible and the branding on my ribs and the cuffs kept Death from being able to find me. However...perhaps I had been going about this too much like a human, too much like a wizard instead of thinking about it in the terms of being the Master of Death. I could control the dead and there was a whole lottery of people I knew that had died recently. My hand retrieved the ring sitting still and silently against my breast bone, laying a kiss to the top fondly. My dear Death...No one was coming to save me this time. I was going to have to save myself. The ring was turned in my hand, a name breathed out along its once cracked and chipped, now smoothed surface. Only a second passed before a figure flickered to life in front of me where my bruised and abused body knelt on the carpeted hotel floor. 

“Oh, Harry...” Ellen's voice was filled with horror and pity when she took in my sorry appearance. What a miserable sight I must make. She stroked a hand down my head timidly as if afraid even the slightest touch would injure me further. I gave her as big a smile as could be managed given the circumstances.

“Ellen, I'm...I'm in trouble and I need your help.” How hard it was to admit! How low Lucifer had brought me down. She nodded fervently, the frown never leaving her pale brow.

“Anything, just name it.” 

My chest constricted at those heartfelt words. No doubt she knew now that I had known her and Jo's deaths were coming before hand. The memory of our last encounter burned in my mind. Jo's broad smile as she did shots with Cas at the table in Bobby's living room. Hugging them both as hard as I could, dreading letting them go. Watching them drive away and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that they wouldn't be coming back. Did she blame me? Did Jo? I shook off the thoughts for a moment, forcing myself to focus on the issue at hand. I always had had a martyr complex, Hermione had been right. 

“I need you to go to Sam and Dean and Death if you can find him and tell them where I am. Lucifer has me hidden from even the Angels and Death. Also, do you think you could remember some of the sigils on these cuffs? They're the key to keeping me hidden. Maybe if Cas and Gabriel know what he's using to obscure me then they can figure out how to bypass it. It's a long shot but this is the only option I have.” I gave the dear huntress a shaky smile, “Obi-Wan, you're my only hope.” 

She let out a tearful laugh but nodded, taking the cuffs in her hands to observe them for herself, “You've got it, Princess. This Enochian?” She snagged up a pen and pencil from the nearby stationary desk and started doing a rubbing of the carvings. It was a good idea. The boys could have the direct markings instead of just Ellen's attempt to recall them. A swell of renewed affection for the intelligent woman burst up in me like a geyser. Losing her and Jo was hard but...”I don't blame you, Harry. For knowing what would happen in Carthage. I don't and neither does Jo. We're happy now. We're together and we have our family back. Sure, we may not be around to clean up after those boys of your now but with you, well, I believe they're in good hands.”

“Really?” 

“Really. You're the Master of Death, Harry. I know what that means and I know you can't make exceptions. If every Reaper made exceptions the world would be a mess. Besides, knowing that we were going to die there wouldn't have stopped us from going. We knew the risks when we took up the life.” She admitted, finishing the rubbing quickly. Ellen did look better. Happier than I'd ever seen her in life. Her words lifted a weight from my heart that I hadn't even been aware was there. A heavy frown crossed her face as she looked up at me once more. 

For once, I was glad that I hadn't the heart to see myself in the mirror, even if I could find the strength to stand. I was wearing nothing but one of Lucifer's long shirts he had taken from Nick's home and the sorry shape my body was in was evident. The Spore was beginning to kick in once more, fluctuating in waves of long intoxication and short periods of lucidity. My moment of clarity was quickly coming to an end and I could feel my attention beginning to waver as the world started to blur with each movement of my head. My eyes drifted to the play of sunlight shimmering on the floor, forgetting that anyone else was there at all until Ellen shook me by the shoulders, dragging me back to the here and now.

“Harry? Oh, God, what did he do to you? Listen...Is there anything you want me to tell them for you? You know, send a message?” 

A message? Did I have anything to say to Sam and Dean? Nothing that my muddled, soggy brain could put together right off hand. But...

“Tell...Tell Death that I love him. That I will never give him up, never.” 

Ellen nodded slowly, her eyes telling me much the same story that my own had the night I had been forced to let her ride to her own death. She didn't want to leave me there, didn't want to acknowledge that there was nothing she could do. Eventually, my mind began to wander all over again. The last thing I recognized of her was a soft, tender kiss pressed to my forehead before the Spore dragged me under into darkness.

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

Famine was defeated. They had his ring but still had no leads on finding Lucifer and Harry. Team Free Will had hoped that the Horseman would be able to give them a lead but they had come up empty. Famine had seen his brother's Master but not since his rising. Where once would have been an air of victory and achievement was now somber and morose. Sure, the bad guy had been defeated and the humans had been saved but no one really felt like they had won much of anything. Harry was still gone. The world was still in danger of Death's retribution. They all still felt as if it were their fault. Bobby's house was quiet as a mausoleum, each of their team immersed in their own stagnating depression. Gabriel hadn't tried to trick anyone in a week now. Dean was drinking more than ever and Sam was fighting his blood addiction stronger than ever. Castiel had become a little more withdrawn and could be often be found outside at all hours praying harder than he ever had before. No one needed to ask to know that his pleas went unanswered. All was dour and glum at the Singer Salvage Yard.

“Dean.” The voice came from by the door and suddenly all eyes were staring at a woman that they had watched die only weeks before. 

“Ellen?! What...what are you doing here? Your dead.” Sam's rather silly words belied the shock spearing through him even if one couldn't see the pale, suspicious surprise in his too tall frame. 

The woman shook her head and rolled brown eyes in disbelief

“Of course I'm dead, Sam. Fortunately for you, you know a certain Master of Death, huh?”

Everyone was on their feet in an instant, firing questions at the ghostly figure faster than she could even process them all. 

“You've seen Harry?!”

“Where is he? How is he?”

“Just wait til we get our hands on that Angel!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, boys! Buy a girl a drink before your hammer her!” Ellen shouted over all of their inquiring. Before answering a single question, she flickered over to Cas and Gabriel's sides, passing the rubbing of Harry's bonds over to their questioning eyes, “Lucifer is using this to keep Harry hidden and his magic contained so he can't escape. They're carved into these bracelets he's wearing. They keep him shielded even from Death himself.” Ellen sighed heavily and her entire demeanor seemed to shrink. Dean felt his stomach clench in fear at the sight. That couldn't mean anything good. What had happened? “Boys...Harry's in bad shape. He's thin and exhausted, covered with these marks. I think Lucifer has been forcing him to sleep with him and Harry was completely out of it. Like he'd been shot up with a jumbo sized elephant tranquilizer. It was pitiful, guys...Towards the end it was like he didn't even know I was there anymore.” 

“Do you know where he is?” Castiel stepped up, his eyes furious and ready for a fight. 

She nodded, that familiar fierce maternal streak taking over her entire being.   
“Lawrence, Kansas. Just at the very edge of town by a small cemetery on the the outskirts.” 

The silence that followed the declaration was deafening and a shared knowledge spread through the room like a plague. Lawrence. Their hometown. It had to end where it began, didn't it? What Azazel had begun all those years ago was finally coming to a head. Lucifer was in Lawrence and there was no way that bastard was escaping their clutches again. Justice would be done and they would see Harry safe and sound, back with Death where he belonged. 

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

“Master, a visitor to see you.”

“Thank you, Johnathan.”

She had to admit, meeting Death for the first time was terrifying, nerve wracking. Sure, she had died but she had been reaped by a kindly gentleman named Hubert, not the Big Daddy Reaper himself. It was with some trepidation that she was led into a small park pagoda where an older man sat eating a bacon dog. Death. Even the thought of him was enough to make her shudder. Being before the man himself was...humbling. He set his hot dog down and began wiping his hands on a napkin as she stood by silently. After all, all the dead had was time. Harry, however, was alive and he was running out of time.

“Ellen Harvelle. You aren't where you're suppose to be. Why aren't you in Heaven with the rest of your brood?”

She was too anxious to even bristle at her family being referred to as a “brood” but the hunter in her wouldn't allow that fear to show. Something told her the man could see it regardless. He was older than the planet, there probably wasn't much he hadn't seen.

“I was...called, I suppose you could say. By Harry.” Ellen could see Death sit up just a little straighter which, for a man with already impeccable posture, was saying something, “He managed to use that ring of his to summon me for help. He's in Lawrence, Kansas and Sam, Dean and Cas and Gabriel are on their way already.” The huntress was hard pressed to see the relief in him but it was there. It was there in the way his eyes closed for just a split second longer and the way his hand touched a scrap of thick paper at his side almost tenderly. Something within him seemed to just uncoil like a spring, not completely but just that little bit. Harry wasn't saved yet but they had found him at last. All the Brothers Grimm had to do now was trap the sod and Death would be there to take care of the rest, “Also, Harry gave me a message to give to you directly.” 

He looked to her at last, intrigued.

“Go on.”

Ellen felt her eyes soften as she remembered the look on the small Master of Death's face, his beaten down but still triumphant appearance. No matter what Lucifer did to him, Harry won each and every time that he stood against the Devil and refused to give in. He was tortured, drugged and terrified but not once did he ever give up his lover to make the pain stop. She may never get to tell him but, for that, he was her new hero.

“He said...that he loves you and that he will never give you up to Lucifer.” She whispered softly, struck suddenly with admiration for the young man. Death stood silently for a long moment, his eyes focused on the table before him contemplatively. Ellen could only imagine what he was going through. To be so separated from the one you loved, never knowing what was happening except that they were in pain every moment of the day. Even when John had gotten her husband killed, she had known that for him the agony was over quickly. Harry's torment was endless.

“Thank you, Mrs. Harvelle. You may return to Heaven now. I believe I have an Archangel to obliterate.”


	13. Lost and Found

A/N: Wow! You guys are truly amazing! Such a wonderful response, I couldn't have hoped for better. :)

Disclaimer: Nope. Sod off.

Chapter Twelve...Lost and Found

I know now, just quite how My life and love might still go on In your heart, in your mind. I'll stay with you for all of time...

I was dreaming again. At first it was almost impossible to tell. The bedroom of the couple whose house Lucifer had borrowed remained the same as it had been when I had fallen asleep, albeit a little dimmer outside as night approached. My captor was elsewhere at the moment, at last unafraid of my escaping his clutches. It wasn't as if I could anyway and he knew it, the pompous prick. It wasn't until the sight of a figure leaning against the doorway caught my eye that I realized this wasn't reality. I was staring at myself though the Not-Me was healthy and vibrant like I had been before Lucifer had snatched me up. He was staring at me with a rage in his eyes that I couldn't even comprehend. It was the sort of fury that boiled seas to bare and sent firestorms falling from the sky. 

“Hello, Harry.” His voice sounded different than mine, just a little deeper in tenor. Darker. 

Was this Lucifer trying to trick me? He had yet to actually visit me in my dreams, despite the nightmare of him some months back, though I knew Archangels had the ability. Could they penetrate my mind? In life, I never had mastered Occlumency but Death gave me some measure of protection against invasion just by being bound to me. The perks of being soul-bound to an ancient primordial being, I suppose. I flexed my fingers, observing them in a reserved kind of relief. Oh the blessedly pain-free world of unconsciousness. The agony I'd been in when I fell asleep had all but vanished. Well, at least until I woke up. The stranger came and sat at my side, seeming to read the emotions on my face impeccably if the pity in his eyes was anything to go by. It was awfully strange sitting beside yourself, looking into your own eyes and watching the play of expression change on your own face. 

Talk about perturbing. 

“This is my fault, you know.” He whispered, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Ugh it was probably a disgusting mess. After the last time Lucifer had put me in the bath, I had never again wished for another. Consequently, my hair now resembled some horror movie dead girl's than my usually sleek, well kept locks.

"Unless your name is Lucifer then you'll forgive me if I disagree." My eyes narrowed at him suspiciously, one eyebrow quirking upwards, "It's not, is it?"

My twin laughed but it was a sound that verged on tearful, "No, no, it is not." 

We sat in a companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the other and pausing to reflect on what brought us to this place. Well, at least that's what I was thinking about. How I'd felt letting all of my new friends drive away to Carthage, the pain of my first night with the Devil, how different it had been that first night sleeping alone without Death. Having to tell him goodbye as I ran off to save the world all over again. I didn't realize that I was crying until a soft arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me into a gentle hug. This stranger wearing my face, he felt so familiar. As if I knew him in his true form somehow. Could it be Gabriel? Castiel I would definitely recognize. He was too stiff and awkward to pass undetected but Gabriel had played human for centuries. He had comforted me before back at Bobby's after my nightmare. No doubt Team Free Will was well on it's way if they hadn't already arrived in Lawrence. I would have to stop into Heaven and give Ellen a big thank you if I ever got out of here. A kiss landed on my temple and my double laid me back down, tucking me in like a small child. The walls all around were beginning to bubble, crack and twist, a sure sign that a drugged consciousness was dragging me back to misery. My eyes found his and I gasped, finding them, not emerald as they had been moments ago but black. A darkness that consumed, not only his eyeballs themselves but spread beneath the skin out into the sockets themselves giving the impression of a skull inside a meat suit.

"The Winchesters are on their way and when they arrive, so too will I. This time, there will be no easy demise for God's prodigal son. I will obliterate his very essence for this." 

Breath caught in my throat and a wild hope blossomed in my chest. It couldn't be...But it could! The only one with access to my mind, the one bound so closely to me that it actually made a weird sort of sense that he could take my very form. 

"Death..." 

I wanted to throw my arms around him, kiss him, beg for him to stay but before I could get even a sound out, the dream collapsed around me and I awoke to sunlight and a burning agony.

"Little Death, so good of you to join us at last." Lucifer's sickly sweet coo was the first thing that I registered when I awoke. That and the blinding sunlight pouring into my eyeballs. Wincing, I managed to roll over with some difficulty, a whimper crawling out of my mouth as the latest in a series of scratches and cuts along my back were reopened with the movement. My oxford button down I wore had dried to the scabs when the blood congealed last night and as I turned over, the fabric was torn away from the wounds. Sirens of pain shrieked in my brain and it was all that I could to not to cry out. Lucifer wouldn't be receiving that satisfaction from me today, or ever if Death had his way. Eyes finally adjusted to the light and at last the scenario that was playing out before me came into focus. 

I had been dropped into a field. No, an old cemetery, I corrected myself, finally glimpsing the worn and crumbling headstones that had to be a century old at least. The graveyard was surrounded by a thick wood and it was a shockingly beautiful day for the end of the world. That wasn't what caught my mixed and admittedly swaying attention, though. It was Sam and Dean standing nearby, the Impala like a faithful dog at their side. Castiel followed them up, standing tall but wary against their brother. The four were looking to me with matching expressions of horror, disgust and sympathy. Brie's face held rage.

"What have you done, Brother?! How could you do this?!" His shout carried every ounce of his Angelic fury and shook the very ground beneath us. Nearby a headstone cracked and somehow, throughout the haze of the Spore, that was all that my limited focus could stay on. There was something there, something...Something I could use but the information alluded me, dancing tauntingly on the tip of my tongue. If only my mind would clear enough to reach it! 

"Oh, Harry there? Well, you see, Gabriel, I'm building him into the perfect Consort. Pliant, obedient, faithful. Just like Father made us. Granted he's still in the early stages, the molding isn't quite finished yet, but I assure you, when he's completed, he will be perfection. He's already a blast in bed." 

Perfection, huh? Well, he could take his perfection and shove it up his arse as far as I was concerned. No one was building me into anything let alone the Consort for some bloody feathered arse on a power trip. He was like an infant who had found the button to his daddy's nukes and decided to play cowboys and Indians with it. I wasn't going to be trapped forever and when I got out, Lucifer would have all of Hell to pay. It did give me some comfort to see that Sam had not said yes to that bastard. That was another can of worms that would just be a headache to sort out once this Apocalypse mess was over. In the trees, I began to see the dim shapes of Reapers materializing from the woods. They remained far enough away that no one else noticed them but the Reapers were mine. I would recognize their presence anywhere. A slow, wicked smirk began to spread over my face. Soon. 

"You bastard! We're going to kill you for this!" Oh, no Sammy. That honor wouldn't belong to you, that was a promise. 

"Lucifer." A new voice entered the fray, one that I suppose we should have anticipated to begin with but had failed to really feature in my tormented thoughts of late. Michael. The Archangel was suddenly there, standing between the others and Lucifer and I like a buffer, wearing the body of the youngest Winchester son. Oh great. What was this, a freaking Angel fiesta? Adam's eyes found mine and he gave a nod of respect in my direction while I struggled to sit up. At least my faithfulness to Death was earning me paranormal street cred. Not. 

"Mikey, let me have a go at this prick! I'm done running from this! You've hurt Harry and now you're going to have to pay!" The Trickster raged, moving towards the front of the car but Cas's arm caught him before he could. There was a calculation in Castiel's eyes as he watched me, something there that hadn't been before. The two Angels were being very careful to stay far back from where Lucifer and Michael stood. Too careful. Their plan slowly began to dawn on me as the vague dampness on the ground caught my eye. It was wet, but only in a circle. The only bit of dampness in a bone dry field and it was in a circle. 

"Yes he will, Gabriel, but his punishment is not for you to decide." Michael said stoically.

Enough of this rubbish. I rolled quickly across the circle, nearly shrieking in pain as a stick jabbed into my now free bleeding back. Lucifer spun around to see what the commotion was, to make sure I wasn't escaping, at the same moment that Dean flicked his lighter onto the ground. The holy Angel proofing went up in flames like a cheap liquor store on Guy Fawkes Day and the Devil screamed in fury. He was caught. And so was Michael. There was a figure standing behind one of the tomb stones, a man I hadn't seen since the beginning of this mess. He caught my eye because, against the backdrop of Reapers, he was exceedingly out of place. God, hiding from his parental responsibilities still but always present. Always just watching. When we got out of here, I think I had a few choice words for that man. He was wearing his street urchin suit again and still looked as if he hadn't had a bath in a week. A white flower was pinned into his sandy colored deadlocks, a stark contrast against all of the rest. God nodded to me kindly, smiling with an apology silent on his lips and snapped his fingers. What-? He didn't give me even a moment to waste with confusion because the next thing I knew, my stomach roiled furiously and I was heaving. Bile surged out of my throat and nose, black, thick and vicious and I heard Dean's cry of disgust from afar. Feet raced towards me and for the first time in months, Castiel's loving face came into my view. He held me as only a true friend will while I vomited out every little bit that had sat in my stomach. Eventually there was even blood mixed in with the bile but with every painful heave, my head felt clearer. I was purging out all of the Spore. Every little bit. Cas didn't even care that there was sludge on his token trench coat now. A high pitched click reached my ears and I knew, before I even looked down to see the cuffs now free of my wrists, that I was free. My magic soared, begging to be released. It pounded against me, reaching for the heavens, calling out to every Reaper and corpse in the area. 

"You are right. It is for me to decide." Death's voice was a machete through the air. Everyone tensed immediately, but none quite so much as Lucifer himself. Why?

Death was here. I was unbound and undrugged. We were both pissed. My eyes jerked to my lover and it was only Castiel's arm around me that kept me from rushing to him. He was in full Horseman mode now. He stood impossibly tall, shrouded in black, his cane tapping the ground with every stride. This was the handsome, intimidating man that I had first seen upon my own death. This was the man I had fallen in love with, the man I craved. His sudden appearance made me immediately aware of my own sorry, barely clothed state. For the first time since my death, I felt shame in front of my lover. Was it possible to be both pale and red with humiliation all at once? Cas seemed to realize my plight because, before laying a hand on my head to heal me, he draped his trench coat around my shoulders to cover my nearly nude body. Oh, I owed Castiel the biggest and best Thank You dinner I could create after this. The wounds littering my body healed like they were just being washed away. Speaking of...I looked back to that tombstone where the hidden deity had been crouched only moments ago only to find his gone. Of course. Surprise surprise. My angelic friend helped me to my feet gently and I limped over to my lover's side to touch his hand tenderly. I felt my own eyes shift to black as he looked down at me, his own the spread out skeleton sockets they had been in my dream, the darkness shining through the thin skin stretched above the bone.

“Are you alright, Harry?” He whispered, his harsh demeanor breaking just for a moment when his softening eyes took in my filthy, bloody figure. His hand reached up to brush fingers over my cheek and I took his hand, gripping it like a lifeline. I had never felt something so precious as that hand in mine. 

“I am now. Did you finish the list?” 

He broke into a small smile and handed me a little slip of paper with all of the foods I had wanted him to try written on it. Each one was crossed out.

“I was particularly fond of the pizza in Chicago.” Merlin, I loved him. Every inch, no matter what. “Now, let's take care of this little matter and we can go have a slice together.” 

“That sounds fantastic.” And it did. Something as normal as getting pizza with my beloved after the last few months I'd had? Nothing sounded better. My eyes flicked to Michael who had been waiting with his brother within the circle appearing strong but shame faced. No doubt he had all of the Angels in an uproar trying to egg on and lure out Lucifer. Fortunately for him, our beef did not include him, “I would suggest you leave Michael. We have no quarrel with you.” The flames were extinguished and the man disappeared quickly. Lucifer's escape, however, was blocked for the instant he tried to fly away, Death gripped his very soul in a vice.

“I don't think so, Angel. You're not going anywhere.”

Lucifer met his end at my beloved's hands, his soul crushed to death while he screamed. Somewhere close, I could feel his Father watching his son be destroyed and weeping. It was a painful death, an eternal death. Not even a trace of his essence was left over. A Reaper crossed over quickly with a long black coat and I handed Castiel his trench coat back. It felt good to be back...in clothes, especially. The mission was over at last. I could go home. Looking up at Death, his hand in my own, I smiled, broad and sincere. I was already there.


	14. A Return To The Balance

A/N: Okay ladies and gents! This is the last chapter of His Companion Was The Grave! Thank you so much for all of your support and encouragement and please, stay tuned because I'm kind of playing with an idea for another Death/Harry! I may also decide to do one more follow up chapter on the episode in Season 9 where Death shows up one more time, but as I haven't watched that far into the show yet...Well, it may be a little bit. I do love season 5, though. So far it's my favorite. Enjoy this last chapter and please remember to review!

Disclaimer: I'm not making any money. Period. 

Chapter Thirteen...A Return To The Balance

Centuries are what it meant to me, A cemetery where I marry the sea. Stranger things could never change my mind, I've gotta take it on the Otherside.

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

“We need you to kill God. Your...honor.” Bobby intoned shakily, eying Death with a wariness that he felt to the bone. 

Well, wasn't that peachy keen. Even the Horseman looked surprised to those who knew him well enough to recognize it. Kill God, huh? That dredlocked little duty shirker still running around then, was he? Still refusing to clean up his own mess, no doubt, and oh, how Death hated being called to clean up after others. It put him in a right foul mood, it did.

“What makes you think that I can do that?” Was that a trace of incredulity in his steady voice? Of course, it was! Death was always a little skeptical when he had to deal with humanity lately. After the whole Apocalypse business, he preferred to just delegate that species to the Reapers rather than handle it directly for a while. It was probably for the best. Death still held a bit of a grudge about having to play the knight on his pale steed riding in to the rescue. 

Dean's eyes narrowed on the entity with the intensity that only the righteous with a cause could manage. He was like an avenging angel. Like Gabriel...Certainly with more of an affinity for stiff drinks than a sweet tooth, though. 

“You told me.” His voice left no room for denials or lies, not that Death would need to resort to such a thing. The concept was laughable. 

“Why should I?” Now wasn't that the primary question? He was certainly under no obligation to help the Winchesters again. All they had done in the past was give him grief. The expression that came to Dean's face was outright comical. He looked as if he had swallowed something unpleasant and was debating on the wisdom of speaking his next words out loud. It was never a wise idea to piss off the man who could end your existence permanently and had prove he could and would utilize such a skill when pushed far enough. In all fairness, the world was certainly no poorer for Lucifer's death, though. In fact, I would say it had much improved.

“Because...we said so and we're the boss of you. I mean...respectfully.” The poor hunter looked terrified to even say such a thing! If it hadn't been so amusing, he probably would have been afraid with good reason. I made my presence known with a snort, choking off the power of the Invisibility Cloak so they could all see me sitting on the desk beside my lover.

“Now, Dean, do be nice. We all know Death has only one boss and I can't be bound so easily.” I laughed, giving them all a bright grin.

Even if they were trying to get us to clean up their mess, it was good to see them again. I hadn't had the chance to look in on my human friends since Lucifer's demise months ago. Death had asked me to stay in the Library when he had come down last. Ever since I had been returned to him, beaten and raped, he had been understandably protective and possessive. I didn't go anywhere without him now and frankly, it wasn't a condition that I minded terribly. The boys' eyes lit up in delight one by one, a candle that wouldn't be smothered.

“Harry!”

“You're okay! You are okay, right?”  
“You look great, man!” 

I let Sam sweep me up in a hug under my beloved's watchful eye, patting the gigantic man on the back affectionately. Even Bobby looked like his day had just been made. Their happiness warmed my heart deep inside and my smile wouldn't be contained.

“I'm fine, gents, I'm fine. Doing brilliantly actually! Between Tessa and this mother hen, I'm on a very short leash for the next few centuries.” Death rolled his eyes but I could see his irritation smoothing, softening at the sight of my laughing. I slipped my hand into his without a word between us, content to just hold and be held, “Now, what seems to be the problem? Kill God? What are you guys mad? What's the little urchin done this time, because I swear we had stiff words with him about that whole Lucifer business ages ago.” 

“Er...” Their confusion told me more than words could have. I was missing something. Something big. Death had kept me out of the loop. Sure, he had said that something funny was going on down on Earth but had assured me that it would work itself out. If the Winchesters were involved, I suddenly had doubts. Why on Earth would Sam and Dean want to kill God? Surely he hadn't given them that bad a lot in life!

“Amazing.” When I heard Castiel's voice again for the first time in months, my heart could have burst in joy. My good friend! Oh, how I'd missed him! Just one glance at his face told me instantly that not all was as it should have been though. Jimmy was...melting. It was much the same degradation that Lucifer's vessel, Nick, had experienced but significantly more progressed. The stench of death clung about his aura like a noxious perfume. I would estimate he had only days, very few at that. If his appearance wasn't a good indicator, his words certainly cemented my worry, “I didn't want to kill you but now...You've erased any nostalgia I had for you, Dean.” The Angel lifted his hand to snap Dean into the next life but I beat both of them to whatever unfortunate mess would have come next.

“Cas?” A heavy frown settled over my face as I slid off of the desk, crossing over to the man I had come to see as one of my best friends. His eyes barely seemed to register me as an ally, “Oh, Castiel...what have you done to yourself?” He had to be in pain. Even if he didn't register it, there was no way that the condition Jimmy was in wasn't affecting him. My hands twitched with the desire to heal, to take away that pain like he had done for me, palm hovering over the liquescent flesh tenderly. For just a moment, an instant, old Cas peaked out through the haze and he took my hand in his as if it were a lifeline.

“So this is God? You look an awful lot like a mutated Angel to me. Your vessel is melting. You're going to explode.” Death was watching our exchange with narrowed eyes as if he were just waiting for the Angel to make an attempt on my safety. The moment was over almost before it had began. 

My Castiel was in there somewhere. Through the haze of dead souls he'd consumed, he was in there. I could see them now, all clamoring to get out. Not just souls either. Darker things, monstrous things. Leviathan. Another of God's abandoned children. Really, could that man ever take responsibility? This mess was going to be a headache and a half to sort out! There goes our relaxing weekend in 1605. And I'd been so excited to see the Gun Powder Plot first hand. Down the tubes. No thanks to that Raphael prick egging Cas on. One could do terrible things when their immortal existence is threatened, after all. Cas would have never gone to such extremes without a very good reason and as his friend, it was my duty to save him like he'd once helped to do for me. 

Baby blue eyes zeroed in on Death as if he'd been served an affront, “No, I'm not. When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself.” 

“You think you can because you think under the weight of all of those souls, yeah? But that's not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in Purgatory and you gulped those in too.”

“Irrelevant.” 

Oh, for Merlin's sake, those two! They needed to put down the rulers and just whip it out on the desk if they were going to do this back and forth rubbish. Save all of us a lot of time. Sam caught me checking my watch impatiently and he looked as if he wasn't sure whether or not to laugh at my antics or be afraid of the verbal pissing contest between the two entities. 

“Stupid little soldier that you are.” Oh, now we've been reduced to name calling, dear? I shot him a look of annoyance and even though he was eying down the new self-proclaimed God, I knew that he could feel it. It wasn't Cas's fault that his brain had broken, it was the souls inside him. He was riding on a power high that he couldn't come down off of and personally, I held Raphael responsible. Even I could admit that it was awfully convenient to blame a dead Angel, though, and also that I wasn't able to look at the situation impartially. Castiel was my friend, there was an emotional investment between us, so I was biased. Death was not so on this issue, I had enough sense to take a backseat no matter how much it tore at me. I would still do my best to save Cas but Death was taking the reigns on this one. 

“Why? Because I dared open a door that he shut?” The Angel came practically breast to breast with the Horseman, a threatening posture if there had ever been one, “Where is he? I did a service by taking his place.”

“A service? By settling petty vendettas?”

“No, by cleaning up one mess after another. Just like we did when Lucifer took Harry. Where were you when Lucifer was defiling him? Seeing to your comrades instead of the person who loves you, depends on you the most? If it hadn't been for us, Lucifer would have had his victory and Harry would still be with him. And what are you, really? A fly swatter?” 

Oh no. Not good, Cas. Low blow. It was definitely time to intervene. I stepped up between the two of them, seeing black spread across Death's eyes as his fury mounted. 

“Destined to swat you, I think!” It was truly amazing how Death could always manage to yell without even raising his voice. He didn't need to. His rage was a palpable thing, swirling in the air and causing our human companions to bypass turning pale completely and go straight to looking a bit green. 

“Now, now, children. Let's be reasonable adults here. Castiel, that was not okay. And I know how many souls you've taken in but...I've met God and, trust me, you want to be a better dad than that guy. Don't aspire to be someone else, Cas. Aspire to be a better you. The Castiel that I love, my best friend. Let's fix this together, okay? You don't want to hurt Jimmy, do you? I know that you'd never want to hurt anyone. Please. Please put them back to rest.” I begged and held out my hand to him, urging him with all of the sincerity I possessed to take my offer. 

Please, don't make me have to reap him. My friends list was getting shorter and shorter. I really didn't want to have to destroy another Angel's soul. Even if they really deserved it, it was a terrible thing, saved solely for when no other choice was given. It tipped the Balance of things terribly and every soul lost that way was mourned. It created a loss in the universe, one that had to heal with time just as any other loss. Death was a cold, silent pillar at my back, his hand on the small of my spine gently as both a warning and a comfort. It said more plainly than words ever could, 'Please, be careful. I'm here for you'. What did I ever do to deserve him? The old Cas was breaking through little by little, his hands trembling. I could see the Leviathan's scratching beneath his shirt, pushing to get out of the skin that bound them in. It had to be painful. 

“You will...come with me?” He sounded like a child then, lost and confused. Hurt. So much fear and hurt piled on top of one another with no way out. He had no knowledge of how to express such things so they just built up inside of him. His hand slipped into mine and the beaming smile I rewarded him with was blinding. 

“Of course I will.”

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

The portal opened on the wall of the lab, a great sucking chasm staring back at us. Surely when Nietzsche wrote about the abyss staring back, he had seen Purgatory itself for that was what it was. An endless Abyss, a pit in the universe where the souls of those without a final resting place ended up. Sometimes I wondered. If I ever did die, would I end up in this ever lasting darkness? I held Castiel against me, supporting him as a friend should and allowing him to lean on me in his time of need. His head lay on top of mine and when he finally released those sold back into the chasm, I almost wished he hadn't. This was the end for Cas. Death was upon him now and he would not survive the purge. When I left Earth today, I would be taking the essence of my friend with me. Death stood by bitterly, in a little bit of a snit about the whole thing. His consolation prize was the return of the souls to Purgatory as had been demanded. He was still rather itching to demolish the, and I quote, “Disrespectful insect with an inferiority complex”. 

The souls burst from him in a geyser of white light. Merlin...he had taken in so many. It was amazing how much one Angel could gorge himself on. They seemed to flow from him endlessly. Eventually, the torrent slowed to a stream, then to a trickle and at last halted completely. The portal closed and the moment it did, Cas collapsed in my arms. This was it. It was done. His essence flowed out to me of its own volition, wrapping warmly around my wrist as if to say 'thank you' when it had no body to do so with. Castiel was dead and the souls returned. Our work was finished. I laid him down tenderly on the cold tile floor, looking at last to the hunters.

“That's the end of it then. You boys sure let things get out of hand, huh?” No one bothered to deny it. They were too caught up in staring sadly down at the body of their friend. I crossed over to Dean and patted him on the back to try to console him at least a little. The despair in his eyes was evident. He believed that there was only himself to blame, “Don't worry about Cas, mate. He'll be safe and happy with me, I promise you that. We have to get him now but,” I slid an old, golden coin in the man's hand gently, “Next time you need to get a hold of me, use this. Death gets a bit sandy about that whole forceful summoning bit, yeah?”

Sam and Bobby leaned over to take a peak at the heavy golden galleon that had gotten so much use in my youth. My human youth, at least. 

“What is it?”   
I gave them all a wry grin, rejoining my beloved towards the back of the room and placing Cas's essence into the black briefcase he held out for me. 

“Think of it as interdimensional email. You need me, all you have to do is hold it and speak the name of the place where you are. The coin I have will warm up and reflect your location. Easy peesy.” 

Bobby and Sam already looked as if they were drooling to research and study the thing but given the corpse of their friend still cooling on the floor, the elder Winchester simply nodded and slid it into his pocket.

“Thanks, Harry. For everything. Take care of that guy, will you?” For one of the few times in front of others, there was real emotion choking Dean up. His voice caught in his throat and my smile again turned tender.

“You know I will.”

Death scooped me up against him and in the next instant we were gone.

(8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8= (8=

“Where...am I?” Castiel's voice echoed in the vast, seemingly endless expanse of the room he awoke into. 

The space was a tasteful combination of black carpets, Victorian red walls and impossibly tall golden book shelves. Wasn't he dead? He could have sworn that he'd felt his essence bleed out of him as surely as the souls returning to Purgatory had. It was a miracle that his own hadn't been dragged through with them. So why was he aware? And sitting in a big plush red chair, no less. Angels didn't go to Heaven when they were extinguished, they went to...Oh.

“You're in the Library, bro! Nice to see you all awake and squeaky clean again. Let me tell you, I've been waiting for you, Castiel.” A voice he hadn't heard in some months burst out into the air behind him and he spun around to assure himself that it was indeed true. 

“Gabriel?”

The black wooden door off to the side opened and Harry stepped through with a grin.

“Oh, good, you're awake.” 

What was going on? Why had he been...not resurrected because his form here was much like it was in Heaven. Fluid, easily shifted and changed. Castiel's confusion must have shown on his face because the deceased Trickster Angel began to cackle at his misfortune. The Master of Death's expression was a mite more sympathetic.

“This is a condition of Death's newfound protective streak, Cas. He insists that I stay in the Library when he can't be with me personally now and so I insisted that I have company. Someone other than Reapers, and frankly, you two, out of all of the people I've known in my long life, were born and bred for immortality. A human's mind is not and I don't fancy having to change out my friends when eternity breaks their minds like melons.” Fair enough, he supposed, but Castiel could see the true affection for them written all over Harry's expression, in his body language. He had missed them, truly missed their presence. Not for what they could do for him or how he could serve them best, but for themselves. Personality flaws aside.

“You are a wonderful person, Harry Potter.” Was all he could whisper. 

The moment was ruined when Gabriel smacked a large bubble of chewing gum right next to his ear annoyingly. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Enough of the chummy stuff! I want to know how your second honeymoon with Death went! Tell me, is he as good as everyone wonders? Everyone meaning me, of course.” The Archangel laughed loudly, not even noticing Cas sneak a piece of his candy from the side table to taste it for himself.

Harry gave a wicked, devilish grin and winked, “He's better. No one would ever suspect the Angel of Death to be a real sexual dynamo but Merlin! The things that man can do with his hands.”

It was going to be a very long after life.

End! 

Unless I decide to add on one more epilogue chapter for Season 9...>__>


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